


Tail Gate (Post LtG One Shot Collection)

by bruisespristine



Series: Taylor Swift Verse (College AU, no actual TSwift) [4]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: After Love the Game, F/F, I'm sorting out the chronology, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-06-10 01:13:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 59,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6931945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisespristine/pseuds/bruisespristine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Organisation! These are the one shots that happen after Love the Game. Notes and warnings and stuff by chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cherry Chapstick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven/ Zoe dr mech chapter, moved from the other one shot collection for organisation's sake, don't get too excited. The next chapter is NEW though. Feel free to releave comments ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **content warning** all smut all the time, oral, anal, first time with a lady friend, ice play, face sitting. Fairly vanilla.

The night is still pleasantly warm, purple dusk just fading into true night on the very edge of campus. Trees reach overhead sheltering the path they’re strolling down, it feels private and cozy. Raven’s fingers keep brushing against the back of Zoe’s hand like maybe she wants to hold it, and it’s sending little bolts of electricity up Zoe’s arm.    
  
Behind them, the noise of the raucous party in full swing starts to fade, as they walk in fairly comfortable silence down the path that leads to the Casa. Zoe’s done feeling nervous now, she’s made her decision and she’s sticking to it! She remembers a similar feeling the night she decided to fuck a guy for the first time. His name was Joey, and he was sweet and kind and so terrible at eating pussy she didn’t even realise that could be a fun activity or bothering to ask anyone else to go downtown for two years after that. 

She abruptly realises that she might be the one who is terrible at eating pussy now, and blinks, then shakes the thought off, because she’s Zoe freaking Morgan and she knows how sex works. She is  _excellent_ at sex, thank you very much.

Raven chuckles, and Zoe looks at her, wondering what prompted it. 

“You have a very expressive face,” Raven explains, biting her lower lip with a little grin, “it’s like watching a movie.”

Zoe snickers, turning her hand around and sliding her fingers through Raven’s. They’re warm and strong and smaller than a man’s, but Raven drags her thumb over the back of Zoe’s finger and her stomach clenches lazily regardless, “what genre?” 

“Well, hopefully a porno,” Raven gives her the cheekiest grin Zoe has ever seen on anyone, and squeezes her hand gently, “but you seem nervous.”   


It’s not a question, which is nice, but Zoe faces front again as they turn off the main path and up the smaller trail  to the Casa, “I was just thinking about what state my room is in,” it’s a fib, Zoe’s room is always clean, but Raven doesn’t need to know that, “and hoping you wouldn’t mind giving me five minutes to deal with that.” And also take a deep breath and read the notes on her phone...

“Sure, no problem,” Raven tugs her hand, slowing them, and pulling Zoe to face her. They’re almost the same height, Raven has about an inch on her, but Zoe only has to tilt her chin up a little to accept the kiss Raven is very clearly offering, her lips parted and her eyes twinkling.

It’s slow and soft and explorative, nothing demanding in it, but  fire sparks down Zoe’s spine when their tongues brush against each other, and by the time she pulls back her breathing is heavy and her body is tingling with anticipation. 

Raven squeezes her hand gently and gives her an open grin before starting to walk again, “these your digs?”

“Uh, yeah!” Zoe blinks back to reality, fumbles in her purse for her keys, “welcome to the Casa, please excuse the nerd gear and soccer shit everywhere, we have two more housemates than we’re officially supposed to and it gets a little busy.”   
  
“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.” Raven follows her through the door, unzipping her jacket and hooking it over her shoulder.

Zoe grins at her and kicks her shoes off, “there’s a bunch of spirits in the kitchen, or beer in the fridge if you’d rather, I’m just gonna,” she gestures up the stairs.

“What do you want to drink?” Raven asks easily, totally laid back, and Zoe pauses with one foot on the bottom stair.

“Surprise me,” she smirks, before padding up.

Behind her, she hears the smirk in Raven’s voice, “I plan to.”

The smokey promise makes her shiver slightly and she closes the door behind her and leans against it for a minute, taking a deep breath and grabbing her phone.

There’s a message from Shaw on the lock screen.

22:45 SHAW @ MORGAN // did you thoroughly wash your pertinent parts? //

22:59 MORGAN @ SHAW // i’m ALWAYS good to go. you know this //

23:00 SHAW @ MORGAN // i know, i was just reminding you you’re not actually a virgin //

23:01 MORGAN @ SHAW // okay cool i’m going to fuck her now goodbye fare thee well //

Shaw doesn’t reply, and Zoe quickly speed-reads the notes she took on her phone and sets one of Root’s pervy youtube playlists up. Massive Attack kicks in, and she hums under her breath as she makes sure she has lube and gloves and her vibrator handy in the bedside drawer and then opens the door and calls down the stairs, “I’m good!”

Raven emerges from the living room, she’s taken her socks off and her bare feet are brown and delicate looking against the light gray carpet. Zoe’s never had a thing for feet, but they capture her attention for some reason as Raven ambles up the stairs, leans against the wall at the top of them and unashamedly trails her big, dark eyes down Zoe’s body before licking her lips deliberately and offering Zoe a glass of what looks like coke, presumably with some sort of liquor in it as well as icecubes bobbing on the dark surface.

Zoe takes it, their fingers brush on the cold glass and Raven looks up at her from under lowered lashes before leaning in to kiss her.

They’re both holding drinks, and it’s kind of awkward but weirdly hot as Raven presses against her, and Zoe slides her free hand around the other girl’s back and under her shirt, scratching lightly and making Raven arch against her in response.

Somehow they’re through the bedroom door, and Raven kicks it closed, leaning back against it and hooking her fingers into Zoe’s waistband to pull her close. 

Breaking away briefly to set both their drinks down on the bedside table, Zoe grabs Raven’s hips as she backs towards the bed, letting herself fall onto it with a soft thump, Raven landing handily on top of her.

They make out for a long time, anticipation building as their lips slide together and teeth scrape gently, and Zoe’s moaning and arching up into the pressure of Raven’s hips, looking for something to push against as she fumbles with Raven’s shirt, pulling it up over her breasts so she can explore the soft skin of her back more easily.

Raven pulls back with a quiet sound, wriggling so she can sit up straddling Zoe and grinding down slowly as she pulls her shirt over her head, baring her bra-covered breasts.

Her skin is gorgeous, Zoe wants to taste it, so she sits up too and tugs Raven’s hair a little so she tilts her head for Zoe’s attention, letting her kiss wetly down her throat and over her collarbone, one hand coming up to cup Zoe’s head and hold her close. 

Raven’s rocking her hips against her, breathing fast, and Zoe feels powerful and sexy as she trails kisses down Raven’s smooth chest and into her cleavage, her hands spreading out and holding Raven’s back. Her lips find the edge of Raven’s bra, hiding the delicious curve of breast and Zoe makes a complaining noise, tugging at Raven’s bra strap until she gets the idea and lets go of Zoe to remove the offending item.

Boobs.

Boobs are in her face and they are brilliant, Zoe decides. It is so so soft against her cheek as she drags her mouth down, Raven’s hard nipple sliding over her jaw until Zoe finds it with her lips and closes her mouth around it, making Raven clench her hands in her hair and let a choked noise that pleases Zoe immensely escape. 

So she sucks a little, pushes at it with her tongue and smiles around it when Raven says, “oh, fuck, yeah,” before scraping her teeth across the soft curves that lead to her other nipple.

Okay, boobs are _amazing_ , she finally gets the fascination, maybe not to the extent of wanting pictures of boobs on her wall per se, but definitely the rubbing of her face in them, and the squeezing of them in her hands, and the kissing and biting at nipples, and yeah, she could do this all day probably if she wasn’t super fucking horny and feeling a little desperate.

Raven moans when she pulls away, rubs her thumbs over the abandoned nipples and then releases them so she can pull her own shirt off, bra swiftly following.

She’s pushed back to the bed before she’s thrown them on the floor, and a burning hot mouth is tracing the path of her sternum, kissing across her chest, and oh, scraping against her nipple while Raven’s hand comes up to tease the other one and thick, slow heat swirls in her lower belly. 

Raven urges her up the bed until they’re lying on it properly, how you’re supposed to, and their chests are pressed together as she comes in for another kiss. Their legs slot together and Zoe digs her nails into the gentle curves of Raven’s hips as she arches, grinding upwards and met by equally enthused movements. And god, boobs on boobs is another revelation, the feeling of Raven’s hard nipples streaking tingling pathways over her skin and making her clench and throb.

Her heart is pounding, her skin feels electric, she’s aching with need and she doesn’t really know what to do next because usually at this point she’d be pushing against a dick and then she’d be sliding onto a dick and really both people get to fuck at the same time like that, but it seems like in this scenario they have to kind of pick who goes first—unless they sixty nine which seems a little advanced for her first time— and Zoe would  _ really  _ like it to be her that gets off soon because she is heavy and desperate and aching, and just as she’s wondering if etiquette allows her to put in a request, Raven pulls back from their kiss, hovers over her with swollen lips and scalding eyes, her cheeks glowing pink under the bronze.

“I wanna taste you,” the way she says it, loaded and honeyed makes Zoe clench down on nothing and it must show in her face cause Raven gives her this little, lopsided grin of pleasure and rolls her hips down against Zoe’s stomach, “you, uh, go to the clinic? I’m good to go, I get tested regularly.” 

“Ah, yeah,” Zoe lifts her hips up, pushing, “I got my results yesterday, actually, I’m all set,” Shaw and Zoe actually have a standing clinic date every six weeks, because friends who get tested together... are the best together, or something. Zoe’s brain is not operating at full capacity currently, and she makes a mental note to come back to her rhyme later when Raven isn’t looking at her like she’s lunch and her clit isn’t pounding in time with her own heartbeat.

“Awesome,” Raven looks eager, smoothing her hands down Zoe’s chest and cupping her breasts with a shimmery little sigh, “so can I please fucking go down on you, I’m dying?”   
  
“Definitely,” Zoe gasps as Raven rolls her nipples, arching back and worming a hand between Raven’s legs to undo her jeans button, “please do.”

Raven wastes no further time, squirming down the bed and pulling Zoe’s jeans and underwear off in one movement, her own pants still on, and Zoe slips a hand down to block her pussy as Raven makes to crawl between her legs, “pants, take your pants off,” she gasps, dragging her fingers over her clit and letting her eyes flutter shut. Shit, she’s so wet.

“Shit, yeah,” Raven stands up, undoes her jeans, hauls them off with only minor loss of balance, that makes Zoe giggle briefly only to be abruptly cut off as Raven kneels between her legs and pushes her hand against Zoe’s where she’s touching herself, increasing the pressure.

“God, you’re so sexy. What do you like?” Raven trails her fingertips down Zoe’s knuckles, pushing on the soft skin and making her shiver and clench. 

“Ah,” Zoe pulls her hand out the way and opens her thighs further, unabashedly displaying herself for Raven’s attentions, “I like to get fucked, I’m into anal if you’re up for that, I have gloves and stuff,” she bites her lip, shifting on the mattress. She’s not shy about what she’s into, but it still always feels a little risky, just putting it out there. Raven did ask, though.

Raven’s eyes drop like they’ve been lead-weighted, zeroing in on her pussy before she moves her hand forward and rubs her thumb slowly down Zoe’s clit, watching with a fascinated expression, “cool. I’m pretty easy,” she smirks as she looks up at Zoe, nips her lip and slowly releases it, then wriggles onto her stomach propped on her elbows, placing a hand gently over Zoe’s hipbone, “fuck you smell good, I’m gonna shove my tongue inside you, gonna make you feel so good.”

It seems like Raven’s a bit of a dirty talker, Zoe preens happily and wriggles down a little, reaching over to open the bedside drawer and grab lube and gloves, leaving them on the bed, “mm, I bet I taste good too, you know?” she teases, and Raven cocks an eyebrow at her, holding her gaze as she slowly lowers her head, pressing her hot mouth against Zoe’s inner thigh, making her twitch and groan.

She reaches down, tracing her fingers over the fine arch of Raven’s eyebrow, smoothing the fine hairs gently as Raven sucks on her thigh gently, before moving up and breathing a hot puff of air directly onto Zoe’s pussy.    
  
She doesn’t try to swallow the moan, lets it trickle out as she stretches luxuriously, wriggling against the mattress trying to entice Raven into putting her mouth down, she can feel the smile tugging at the corner of Raven’s mouth as she turns her head, presses a kiss to Zoe’s other thigh and she lifts her hips up, sighing as Raven evades contact before giving her a wicked, wicked smirk and finally taking a slow, leisurely swipe up the length of Zoe’s pussy. 

The contact feels wonderful, it’s hot and slick and makes her eyes roll back as Raven hums and pushes closes, easing in with her tongue.  Zoe sighs happily and brings her hands up to her nipples, plucking at them idly as she watches Raven’s face while she eats her out. 

Raven closes her eyes in pleasure, her eyebrows are drawn in just the slightest bit, maybe in concentration, and then she does  _ something  _ with her tongue that makes Zoe’s hips jerk and her eyes roll back and she can’t look any more because Raven is fucking focussed as hell on making Zoe feel that same thing again, and her tongue is somehow so fucking deep inside, Zoe can’t understand how it can be so deep. 

Raven hums into her, vibrations spreading boiling heat through her, coiling, and then there are fingers teasing at her entrance and Zoe pushes down onto them, into Raven’s mouth, and there’s a thumb teasing the soft skin of her perineum and she’s disintegrating, her fingers never stopping their pinching at her nipples as her orgasm swims dizzily through her from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair, leaving her spread out and gasping. 

As the rush of pleasure subsides, she lazily squirms, reaching down for Raven, tugging on her hair, her ear, gently with clumsy fingers, but unmistakable in request.

Raven crawls up her body and Zoe sighs happily, wrapping her arms around Raven’s slim waist, “just lie on me for a second, I’m all floaty,” she murmurs, and Raven slots into her side, the space under her arm, presses her mouth against Zoe’s cheekbone.

“Sure thing, gorgeous, take your time,” she sounds smug, and Zoe chuckles, a low hum of sound in her chest and not much more.

Raven rocks her hips against Zoe’s side, and Zoe rolls onto her side to kiss her, slightly surprised by her own lack of distaste at the taste of herself slick and tangy on Raven’s full lower lip. Raven smiles into her mouth, hooks her leg over Zoe’s side and wriggles on top of her, leaning down to kiss her with more intent.

Zoe can feel the need in her, the desperation in the rocking motion of her hips, and she runs her hands down Raven’s sides, encouraging her even as she recovers her motor control. 

Raven sucks on her lip eagerly, panting a little as she moves faster, and Zoe can feel a light sheen of sweat forming under her hands sliding down Raven’s strong back, urging her on, lifting her own hips to meet her thrusts and gasping as her soaked centre makes contact with Raven’s hard thigh. 

“Yeah, fuck, just like that,” Raven moans above her, bearing down in a little circle, and Zoe reaches up for her breast with one hand, pinches her nipples gently and then harder when Raven nods and arches into her hand, digs teeth into the side of her neck and loses her rhythm a little. 

Finally feeling like she has control of her limbs back, Zoe pushes at her chest tries to roll her onto her back, “here, let me,” she groans out as her clit glides in especially satisfying fashion against Raven’s thigh muscle as she nods, letting Zoe roll her back and climb on top.

Zoe pushes Raven’s legs apart, settles her hand down over Raven’s pussy and brings her leg up to press against it, not even stopping to marvel at the soft heat against her fingertips in favour of sucking the strangled moan off Raven’s lips and sucking a nipple into her mouth as she presses hard circles with her fingertips, braced with her thigh, pushing against Raven’s clit and she can feel the fucking pulse of Raven’s pleasure building against her fingers, and it’s so hot and slick and Raven’s got her head tilted back on the bed and her nails digging into Zoe’s hips and then she’s coming. She’s coming  _ on  _ Zoe’s hand and it sends a hot rush of power and pleasure through her and suddenly Zoe’s riding Raven’s thigh with more purpose and her own clit is throbbing, and Raven scratches down her back and Zoe cries out, coming in a short, unexpected rush on Raven’s thigh and then collapsing on her in a heap, breathing harshly into her neck. 

“Mmm, that was hot,” Raven mumbles, nosing into Zoe’s hair, “you wanna sit on my face?” 

Zoe snorts, and presses a damp kiss into Raven’s warm and sweaty throat, “what kind of a question is that? Of course I wanna sit on your face, once I can feel my legs,” this must be the bit Shaw’s always going on about, the eleven orgasms. Usually Zoe would be a hundred percent happy with two, ready to tuck whatever sleeping boy she’d gotten them out of in and curl up on a warm chest. But yeah, she could go another round, or two, even. 

Raven snickers and runs her hand down Zoe’s slick back, “I’m gonna put my fingers in your ass, fuck, you’re gonna come all over my face and all hot and tight on my fingers, it’s gonna feel so good.”

“Uh huh,” Zoe grins, leaning a little to tug Raven’s earlobe into her mouth and speak around it, “tell me more.” 

Raven curls her fingers around the curve of Zoe’s ass, pulling a little on the rise of muscle. Zoe purrs and opens her legs, lets Raven trail idle fingers down her inner thigh, “you’re gonna squirm, and beg, and push back into my hand while I spread you open with my tongue, bracing yourself on the wall because you just wanna bear down so hard you’re losing your balance.

“Oh yeah?” Zoe is a big fan of this talking, it’s sending hot trickles of arousal down her spine to pool low in her belly, not demanding like it was earlier but very pleasant either way. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna squeeze your thighs on my face a little bit, cause you just can’t control yourself,” Raven’s voice is even lower and more throaty than it was when she started talking and Zoe likes it a lot, she noses under Raven’s hair, enjoying the hitch in her breathing when Zoe starts to trace her tendon with her tongue.

“And?” 

Raven snickers a little, “come sit up here and find out,” she rolls back a little, after landing a light slap to Zoe’s ass cheek that sparks right through to her clit, making her groan.

“Yes ma’am,” Zoe smirks, sitting up and stretching, then spying her drink and grabbing the glass off the bedside table, condensation cool on her fingers. She takes a gulp and then looks down at Raven, smirks and fishes an icecube out of the rapidly diluting drink.

Raven smiles lazily, wriggles on the bed and licks her lips, “what are you gonna do with that?” 

Zoe blinks slowly, lifting the icecube to her mouth and sucking it, fingertips and all between her lips, tracing her tongue around it. Raven makes a little noise in the back of her throat and Zoe smirks, catching an escaping droplet of water with her tongue and then lowering the icecube to her own nipple, breathing in harshly as the cold makes the tender bud contract rapidly. 

Raven groans and rolls half into Zoe’s lap, reaching up with her mouth and covering the icecube, Zoe’s fingers and her nipple with enthusiasm. The contrast between her hot tongue and the cold ice makes Zoe whimper softly, her eyes fluttering closed, and she doesn’t resist when Raven sucks the icecube into her mouth, taking it out of Zoe’s hand easily and then kissing hot-cold across her chest.

The other nipple is treated to a little warring-temperatures bath until Raven’s mouth has cooled completely and she straddles Zoe for a cold kiss, the sliver of ice rapidly disappearing into nothing under their tongues. 

“Wanna wait til I’ve warmed back up?” Raven asks, looking smug as she lies back down on the bed, pulling a glove onto her left hand before putting both hands under her head, “or are you into a bit of temperature play?”

Zoe shrugs, intrigued, “I’ll try anything once, let’s see how it goes.” She licks her lips, and then grabs another icecube from the abandoned drink, “open wide.”

Raven obediently does, baring white teeth, and Zoe slips the icecube into her mouth slowly, letting her fingertip trail over Raven’s lower lip.

“Alright, cowgirl, saddle up,” Raven pushes the icecube into her cheek, grinning at Zoe and tilting her head back deliberately. Zoe snickers and pinches at Raven’s nipples with icy fingers before wriggling up the bed and swinging her knee over Raven’s chest.

“Save a horse, ride a cowgirl,” she smirks, putting one hand up like she’s holding a hat and rocking her hips forward like she’s on a rodeo bull.

Raven  wriggles closer and blinks up at her with an innocent expression, “they say I’m the best in the West,” but before Zoe can reply an incredibly cold tongue is tracing over the crease between her thigh and pussy and all her higher functioning goes right out the window as she puts her hand behind her, bracing on Raven’s sternum and pushing into her mouth.

“Hooooly fuck,” she manages as Raven kisses at her mound with cold-cold lips, warning her before moving lower, and a gloved hand is grabbing her ass cheek, holding her close and into Raven’s cold mouth and it’s  _ almost  _ too much but also not enough at all, and Raven’s lips are warming against her and Zoe forgets the invisible hat she was gonna hold onto the whole time in favour of leaning a hand against the wall for balance.

Raven slides her gloved fingers into her soaked pussy, slow and deep, sending sparks of hot pleasure swirling through Zoe’s entire body, she groans encouragement, pushing into the sensation, and Raven hums happily, curling her fingers against Zoe’s gspot and rubbing against it until Zoe is gasping and grinding forwards, pressing herself against Raven’s face, riding her fingers and mouth.

Somehow, in a flurry of movement, Raven must manage to lube up because suddenly a latex-clad finger is teasing at Zoe’s ass and she moans encouragement, unable to form coherent words, Raven mumbles something into her pussy, sucks on her clit and pushes inside, Zoe’s whole body clenching in a wave of pleasure. 

“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” she manages to pant out as Raven teases her pussy entrance with her thumb, the latex sliding and tugging gently at the soft skin as her lips close around Zoe’s clit and she sets to with enthusiasm, driving her finger in and out slowly as her tongue taps double time over her clit. 

Zoe holds on until Raven starts using her teeth a little, grazing over her tender flesh, and then can’t stop her orgasm from tumbling through her, no matter how good it all feels and how great Raven looks underneath her and how much she just wants to stay where she is. Her legs give out slowly, like she’s melting, and Raven pulls her glove off and eases her down the bed, stroking comforting patterns on her shoulder blades as Zoe presses her face into the pillow, catching her breath and riding out the shudders still wracking her body. 

“Mrrrgle,” she eventually manages, worming onto her side. Raven’s watching her through heavy lidded eyes.

“Very good porno,” and for a minute Zoe can’t figure out what she’s talking about, and then remembers the genre conversation.

“I try,” she practically purrs it, running her hand down Raven’s chest and enjoying the intake of breath, “so, once I've got my breath back, I totally want to go down on you, but I’ve never actually done that before. So feel free to give me some pointers,” Zoe leans over and takes Raven’s nipple into her mouth, trapping it gently with her teeth and tapping it with her tongue.

“Ah, fuck, that feels good,” Raven sighs, bringing her hand up to cup Zoe’s head, playing with her hair, “no pressure, though, I’m good if you don’t wanna.”

“I do,” Zoe wriggles closer, trading the nipple in her mouth for the other, scooping Raven’s breast into her hand, “I really, really do.”

“Well in that case,” Raven shuffles down the bed, spreads her legs, glossy brown against Zoe’s yellow sheets, “have at it.” 

Zoe nods, sitting up and leaning over to finish her drink for dutch courage.

When she looks back over, Raven has her hand between her legs and two fingers inside herself. Zoe’s brain offlines completely and she stares dazedly while Raven starts making a bit of a show of it, pumping in and out slowly and biting her lip, tugging her nipple with her free hand. 

Abruptly realising that she gets to do that too, Zoe leans over, bats Raven’s hand out the way, “hey, my turn.” 

Raven snickers, spreads her legs and puts her arms by her sides deliberately. She looks kind of like she’s glowing in the warm lighting from Zoe’s sex light, a little lamp on her table with a carefully curated lampshade to provide just the right level of illumination. It rolls down Raven’s warm brown skin, and Zoe sits back on her heels just to look at her for a moment. 

Raven quirks an eyebrow in question, but Zoe just grins, slides her hand up Raven’s leg and trails her fingers across the wetness she finds there, feeling the familiar-yet-unmistakably-differentness of touching someone else so intimately. 

She shivers under Zoe’s fingers, opening her legs still further and sighing softly as Zoe explores, not pushing inside cause...well, there’s a lot going on and she’s working up to that. She pulls her hand back after a moment, brings it up to her mouth and takes a tentative lick, and Raven makes a throaty noise.

“Shit, that’s hot. Maybe I have a virgin kink..” she murmurs, her eyes fixed on Zoe’s mouth, and so Zoe sucks both her fingers between her lips, getting used to the taste and also enjoying Raven’s rapidly increasing breathing.

The last of the flavour cleaned off her fingertips, Zoe nods decisively to herself, grins at Raven, and then leans over and presses her mouth against Raven’s pussy with no further hesitation, closing her eyes.

It’s soft, and slick, and tangy, but not a hugely strong flavour and certainly not offensive. She manages to wriggle her way between Raven’s legs without pulling her mouth away, and Raven makes a little hissed noise of pleasure, lifting her hips up. Zoe likes that, likes the way it makes her skin tingle and her pussy clench so she tries to replicate the dragging lip motion, pulling he bottom lip up over Raven’s clit and Raven gasps, “oh, fuck, yeah, do that more.”

Bracing herself on her elbows, Zoe does her very best, using her thumbs to spread Raven apart so she can get better access to all the soft, delicate hidden parts.

Raven pants and groans when she brushes over her entrance, and Zoe remembers what Shaw said about making people choose between clit and penetration, but she’s not quite sure how to position herself so she can get fingers in her, or even if she will be able to focus on those two things at once, so she tries not to tease too much and concentrates on Raven’s clit, sucking gently on the soft flesh like Shaw demoed on her neck. 

It works well, judging from the hissed litany of curses and enthusiastic rolls of Raven’s hips, pushing up against Zoe’s mouth and Zoe wraps her lips over her teeth so as not to hurt her inadvertently, experimentally licking right into Raven’s pussy as her nose bumps up against her clit. 

“Oh, shit, yeah, tongue fuck me, jesus that feels amazing, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” Raven wriggles and tenses, half sitting up, her breathing stops completely and she grabs Zoe’s hair, grinding into her face a little as she comes with a pornographic moan before collapsing slowly back onto the pillows with a hand over her face. 

Zoe nuzzles at her twitching pussy for a moment, cause she hates it when people pull away too quick, and then sits up, using her earlier abandoned shirt to wipe her face off. 

“Good job me,” she declares, feeling very pleased with herself, and sort of low-level horny that could easily descend into sleepiness if necessary. She takes the opportunity to look at Raven some more while she recovers, cataloguing her body. The smooth curve of her hips, the dent where the muscle leads down, she’s pretty close to a sixpack and Zoe thinks about Shaw telling her she can get Root off with just her stomach muscles. 

Raven yawns, big, covering her mouth with one hand and blinking up at Zoe, “nine out of ten,” she smiles, and Zoe huffs indignantly, pinches the soft skin of her lower belly gently.

“Nine?”

“Well, you have to leave room for improvement otherwise what do you have to aim for,” Raven smirks, stretching lazily and then hooking her thumb around Zoe’s wrist and tugging til Zoe lays down on her, sliding her hand into her hair.

She starts a little head massage, not much more than fiddling with Zoe’s hair and scratching her scalp, but it feels very good, and Zoe relaxes into her, hooking her arm over Raven’s stomach.

“Kay, well, stay over and I’ll try and earn my ten in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me,” the gentle scritching continues, and Zoe sighs contentedly, relaxing for a moment until the pressure of things that have to be done builds up beyond her ability to ignore them, and she sadly wriggles clear. Sometimes not being able to stop processing stuff is the worst.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed. You want jammies or naked?” 

“Naked,” Raven grins, dragging her eyes down Zoe’s body, “preferably for both of us, but I’d love a toothbrush.”

“You think you’ve earned a toothbrush?” Zoe snickers, pulling on an oversized tshirt for decency in bathroom visits.

“Oooh, making me work for my toothbrush?” Raven slides out of bed, pulls on her shirt and tugs at the hem with puppy dog eyes until Zoe grabs her some boxers to put on.

“What’s life without goals? You can make up the difference in the morning.” 


	2. All By Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor JC has to stay home alone when the Team is going out for a club night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> team fluff, for [Charmed352](https://charmed352.tumblr.com/) as a combo thanks and a long distance internet hug. 
> 
> **content warning** drug use (kind of mentions only?) casual sex mentions, sex positive humans, past incidents with nail guns, drinking, fall out boy is shaw's least fave. very brief (and accidental) rape joke that is immediately withdrawn, mentions of blowjobs, terrible spelling and grammar in text form because zoe is wasted, I'm overwarning because I am a hot mess
> 
> plz refrain from mentioning anything 504 related even obliquely in any comments you may leave

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Zoe looks so distressed, Joss has to restrain the urge to roll her eyes, but Zoe clearly already feels guilty enough that Joss has decided to take the ‘placating’ route, at least for now. Bets are off for later, though. 

“No, it’s fine. Go, have a good time. It’s John’s birthday, you can’t miss it,” she tries to keep her voice nice and even, hiding the upset she’s feeling. After all, Zoe didn’t mean to shoot her with a nail gun, and just because Joss can’t dance right now due to the swathe of bandaging around her foot and the painful wound underneath, doesn’t mean Zoe deserves to feel any worse. 

The powercut did complicate matters, though. She’d planned to have a nice—albeit lonely—evening in watching Netflix on the big TV and eating junk. The eating junk part of the plan still stands—she’s surrounded by delicious snack items and there’s takeaway waiting to be reheated in the fridge, but it’s certainly going to be more boring. 

Zoe makes one last sad face and leans down to squish Joss’s head uncomfortably against her boobs. Joss flails and tries to escape until she’s released with a sad sigh. 

“I’m so sorry,” Zoe reiterates for the fortieth odd time, and in the doorway, Shaw snorts.

“She knows, Zoe. We all know. Now come on, she’ll be fine. Won’t you?” The last is directed at Joss.

“Of course I’ll be fine, I’m a grown-ass woman. I mean, reading by candlelight isn’t quite as fun as taking some molly and dancing my butt off all night, but I’ll live.” Joss declares, waggling her book—she’s about to start the latest book in the Lightbringer series and she can’t wait to find out what happens—this injury is the best excuse she can think of to take an evening off studying and actually read for pleasure, "you guys have fun." 

“Look, text me if you need anything,” Zoe asks, fluffing Joss’ pillows totally unnecessarily.

“So you can... What? Come home super high and try to make out with my ankle again?” Joss teases, smirking as she remembers that particular shit show. Zoe is _hilarious_ on any kind of ecstasy, her usually affectionate nature taken to whole new levels.

“That was one time!” Zoe snickers, rearranging Joss’ blankets carefully around her bandaged foot, “and you have very nice ankles. Don’t let your little naked toby-tobes get cold,” she taps the exposed end of Joss’ big toe very lightly. 

Joss rolls her eyes, “yes, mother. Wait, no, I’m the responsible one and you guys are my idiot children. Be careful, drink water, but not too much, don’t go home with any strangers without following basic safety procedure, and make sure you remember everything fun that happens so you can recreate the evening via interpretive dance tomorrow,” Joss waves at Shaw, who nods, and steps outside, the boys and Root already in the taxi when Zoe ran back to apologise some more.

“Oh my goddess, I just had the best idea ever!” Zoe plants a wet kiss on Joss’ forehead, yelling over her shoulder as she heads for the taxi, “I’m going to live tweet you!”

“Please...” The door slams, cutting off the rest of Joss’ sentence, “..don’t,” she announces forlornly to the empty room.

The candles are pretty nice, weirdly Shaw seems to have a huge stash of various colours—she got all shifty and weird when John questioned it—but anyway, the room is lit up by at least a dozen, and there’s more waiting to be lit when these ones run out. Joss has a big candle on the table next to her providing ample reading light, and she settles down comfortably, opening her book. 

21:34 MORGAN @ JC // we are IN the taxi, this driver is a bit grouchy but he also looks like grouncho marx so that’s really funny? he’s making us listen to avril lavigne, and shaw is pretending to hate it but she’s totally bopping, root and i are laughing at her //

21:35 JC @ MORGAN // You really don’t need to live tweet this evening for me //

Although, actually...she can pretty much imagine the situation, and it’s nice to know her friends are thinking of her.

21:37 MORGAN @ JC // it’s too late, i am committed. although i might get distracted and forget, you know me //

21: 38 JC @ MORGAN // I do, sadly //

21:39 MORGAN @ JC // RUDE! //

21:39 MORGAN @ JC // oh no he stopped playing avril and now it’s fall out boy and shaw is getting real annoyed not fake annoyed, she’s grinding her teeth, this is great it’s like being fourteen all over again //

21:39 MORGAN @ JC // not that I knew shaw when she was 14 but i bet she was a fucking nightmare //

21:40 JC @ MORGAN // try not to let her kill him //

21:41 MORGAN @ JC // that’s root’s job now, i am free to watch and enjoy the carnage. oh my goddess idk where this guy learned to drive but probably somewhere WITHOUT CARS we might all die before we even arrive // 

21:43 MORGAN @ JC // not dead //

21:45 MORGAN @ JC // still not dead //

21:51 MORGAN @ JC // STILL not dead and we just arrived. pausing the tweet situation while i get inside and stuff, will update soon //

21:51 JC @ MORGAN // have fun, take be safe //

22:05 MORGAN @ JC // okay the venue is amazing and i could defs bang the cloakroom attendant if i wanted to //

22:05 MORGAN @ JC // i don’t tho his tattoos are TERRIBLE. he has like an octopus i think EATING a spacestation idk? it's maybe a nerd thing i've never heard of but it's badly done also //

22:16 MORGAN @ JC // shaw has had four shots already to recover from the fall out boy situation, the dj is really good and the bar girl is hitting on john SUPER hard //

22:25 MORGAN @ JC // she is STILL hitting on john evry time he goes to the bar, also we dropped so prepare for nonsense. unrelated: have you ever wondered if john actually is as oblivious as he seems or if he’s just putting up a really good and hilarious front? this bartender actually asked him if he came here often and he gave her a big speech about how mostly just with his friends and just was unfailingly polite the whole time. this poor girl is so confused //

22:37 MORGAN @ JC // this is some gooooood shit, everything is VERY pleasing, shaw and root are doing the grindy, harry is dancing like he has pants full of ants and john is once again being hit on by the bartender we’re sending him for all our drinks now cause he gets served in like four seconds it’s amazing we are vips //

23:04 MORGAN @ JC // how are you feeling, wounded one? we prolly shoulda left you some molly I am feeling nooooooo pain maybe you should get wasty pants on that fancy blue tequila by yourself. also i am 85% sure i just saw shaw come in her pants //

23:07 MORGAN @ JC // sorry i take that back i am one hundred percent sure //

23:11 MORGAN @ JC // RUDE some douchey guy just told me to get off my phone I am PERFECTLY capable of tearing up this dance floor and texting my poor sweet best friend so she’s not lonely //

23:12 JC @ MORGAN // I am not getting wasty pants by myself with a bad foot, I’d probably fall down the stairs and die //

23:15 MORGAN @ JC // yeah okay don’t do that. instead think about HOW FUNNY it is when harry and john wasty dance because john is so tall and bad at dancing and harry is so short and bad at dancing //

23:17 MORGAN @ JC // i am amazing at dancing i might be the best dancer here. or in the world //

23:19 JC @ MORGAN // remember that time you danced down the stairs in that club and fell over and grabbed the curtain rail and pulled it down and shaw was sucking that guy off behind it and we all got kicked out? //

23:27 MORGAN @ JC // shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh no shhhhhhhhhhhhhh imagine i am gently covering your whole face with my hand shhhhhhhhhhhhhh //

23:27 JC @ MORGAN // are you chloroforming me? //

23:36 MORGAN @ JC // that’s what she said //

23:37 MORGAN @ JC // no i take it back that’s super dark that’s not what she siad that’s not what anyone said //

23:39 JC @ MORGAN // ... I don’t even know what to say to that except your brain terrifies me //

23:47 MORGAN @ JC // IT IS A WONDEROUS PLACE OF WONDER BRB I AM MAKING OUT WITH SOME CUTE BOY IN A HAT //

23:59 MORGAN @ JC // nvm terrible kisser who let this happen where are all the good kissers why is it so hard to find good kissers do you know i have kissed eleven girls now and the best eleven kisses i have ever have have all been from girls COINCIDENCE I THINK NOT //

00:01 MORGAN @ JC // what i’m saying is boys are okay, meidocre or terrible kissers why is that? //

00:04 JC @ MORGAN // Caleb is an excellent kisser //

00:07 MORGAN @ JC // did you bang him yet //

00:12 JC @ MORGAN // I promise you will be the literal first to know, I can see you are very invested in this //

00:17 MORGAN @ JC // except for him //

00:21 JC @ MORGAN // yes, except for him //

00:27 MORGAN @ JC // did i tell you how happy i am for you? //

00:35 JC @ MORGAN // I lost count the thirteenth time on day one of when I used the word ‘dating’ for the first time // 

00:49 MORGAN @ JC // i am a great friend. and i am so very happy for you. i’m going to play with your fat babies and throw them in the air and tickle them and be their favourite aunt zoe and then get them drunk when they are teenagers and teach them how to be cool //

00:58 JC @ MORGAN // alright, don’t marry us off just yet, we have been ‘dating’ for three weeks //

01:12 MORGAN @ JC // THREE WEEKS OF PREMARITAL BLISS //

02:38 MORGAN @ JC // shit i am super battered and i found someone’s shoe in the bathroom and did some Detective Work and tracked her down and she’s so happy i think we are best friends now //

02:43 MORGAN @ JC // her name is christine and she’s actually kind of annoying can you call me so i can politely go outside to take it //

{Calling Zoe}

“Ah, babe, you’re a life saver!” Zoe picks up on like the eighth ring, “shit, it’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

“Hi, Zoe,” Joss puts her bookmark in her book and curls up on her side, careful because of her foot, “thanks for the blow by blow account of your night of sin.”

“I tried to text you a picture of while I was making out with that terrible hatboy but I couldn’t see the screen and sent it to someone else by accident, so that will be a delightful treat for coursemate Jack in the morning! I should do that more often.” Zoe sounds thrilled but cold.

Joss laughs, “I’m sure he’ll be very pleased. You should go inside and warm up, find some willing cutie to help you.”

“You’re the best, JC! Live tweet will commence when I am not an icecube!”

{end call}

02:56 MORGAN @ JC // of course chrristine is on the dance floor by shoot. time to convince a stranger i’m in a polyamorous threeway relationship with two people who might murder them //

03:05 JC @ MORGAN // aren’t you? //

03:07 MORGAN @ JC // noooooooooooooooooo hashtag no romo hashtag no romo hashtag no romo. i just might bang them is all. not tonight though tonight i am going to bang the manstallion in the black v neck with the best mouth i have seen all night //

03:57 MORGAN @ JC // update: going home with manstallion, do you want sexy times live tweeting? haha i’m just kidding //

03:58 MORGAN @ JC // OR AM I? // 

03:58 MORGAN @ JC // yes i am //

*** 

09:34 JC @ MORGAN // I hope you had a fun evening. Please bring me a delicious breakfast //

09:45 MORGAN @ JC // im dying my eyeballs are melted get your own breakfast //

09:46 MORGAN @ JC // shit i just remembered i shot you with a nail gun breakfast will come home with me //

09:49 JC @ MORGAN // :D //


	3. What Fresh Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe blackmails Team Machine into playing the Newly Wed Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drinking, that's about it really. Pretty mild.

“I’m cashing in a few bets this evening,” Zoe declares as the Team divvies up takeaway cartons, passing things around with the expertise of long acquaintance and familiarity of each other's’ food preferences. 

“Oh no,” Joss moans dramatically, flopping sideways on the couch like she’s been shot, “what fresh hell?”

Shaw, half-gagged by a mouthful of sweet and sour chicken, mumbles, “which of my tickets are you punching and what do I have to do?” sounding wary.

Root raises an eyebrow, settling back in her corner of the sofa with her plate on her knees before neatly snaring a prawn with her chopsticks, “I am confused.”   
  
There’s an painful sounding gulp as Shaw swallows her mouthful before replying, “Zoe makes awful bets with us when we are too drunk or tired or weak to defend ourselves and then uses them to make us do terrible things.”

_ “Amazing  _ things,” Zoe corrects, delicately picking up a piece of broccoli from Joss’ plate, “and tonight, my sweet summer children, we are going to play...” she pauses dramatically, “the Newly Wed game!” She sounds absolutely thrilled with herself, and Shaw chokes on a piece of chicken so violently that Root has to pat her on the back.

She’s complaining before she’s stopped hacking, “no, nonono, no. Zoe, noooo,” she whines.

“You shouldn’t put that in your mouth,” Zoe points at Shaw, and then cackles, “which works for both that piece of chicken and the bet you lost that I am cashing in,” before anyone else can respond, she spins to point at Joss, “handjob in the cabin,” then John, “he’s definitely into you,” and finally Harry, “Pavlovian erection...” Finch hides his head in his hands, and John looks absolutely indignant.  
  
“...I’m gonna need to know the details of all of these amazing bets because honestly that was like a trailer for the best movie ever, Zoe, but what are you bribing me with? We’ve never made a bet,” Root looks smug as she takes a mouthful of her wine.

“I’ll tell you the gory details of each bet at the end of the game,  _ if  _ you play. Also, I will, at my discretion, tell you two amazing stories about Shaw being a total fuckwit. Deal?”

“Hey!” Shaw interjects, and Zoe snickers.

“Think you can stop me?” 

Root shrugs, “okay, I’m in. Sounds ridiculous.” 

“Terrible,” Shaw repeats morosely, digging into her plate with slow, sad motions.

“Oh, come on, Shaw, you love a good ridiculous game,” Zoe chortles, chasing a last piece of beef around her plate before picking her beer up and setting her empty dish aside.

“A good ridiculous game which doesn’t humiliate me,” she grumbles.

“But does humiliate others?” John piles his empty plate up with Harry’s and heads for the kitchen, “I need tequila if we’re doing this.”

“Seconded!” Joss calls after him, starting to clear off the table, “but I could do with getting that bet out of the way, due to the ‘and it shall never be mentioned again’ clause, so I’m in. How are we doing this?”

“You and me, baby! We’re non-sexual-life partners. John and Finch, and Shoot. We can each come up with questions for the other two teams so it’s not unfair like I could have planned ahead. In fact, let’s take half an hour and go and come up with a three questions per team and reconvene,” Zoe looks very pleased with herself and Root can’t hide a little laugh. Shaw shoots her a look of betrayal.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Root murmurs, getting to her feet.

“Ah ah ah, Root, you and Shaw can stay here, if we let you near a bed you’ll never come back. Back in half an hour!” She clambers upright, grabbing a shot of tequila and a slice of lime off the tray John is carrying as he comes back and throwing it back with a dramatic shiver, “to me, teamie JC! Let’s go make some questions to ruin these kids’ relationships.”

Shaw’s face gets even more distressed and Root snorts, elbowing her as she sits back down, sliding her hand onto Shaw’s thigh and squeezing, “I promise to get so battered I don’t remember anything?” She suggests, and Shaw holds onto her grump face for a moment and then sighs.

“Urgh.”

“Here,” John passes Shaw and Root a shot each, and then a piece of lime, and Root downs hers and then bites down on her lime, waiting for Shaw to do the same before seizing her mouth for a citrusey kiss. Shaw pouts into it for a moment and before acquiescing, her mouth sliding open under Root’s and Root shuffles closer, licking the tang of alcohol from the roof of Shaw’s mouth. 

Someone grabs her ear and tugs, and she pulls back indignantly, to see Zoe wagging a finger at her, “no fucking on the sofa, either. Jesus scissoring Christo, I don’t know how you ever have the strength to walk anywhere. And the laundry must be astronomical.”

“I work out a lot, but I have had to start regularly wearing underwear these days, you’re right on that count” Shaw says, smugly, darting in for a last lick of Root’s lip before settling back into the corner of the sofa and pulling her feet up, “go away so we can make up questions then.”

 

***

“What are the stakes?” Finch pulls an awful face as he downs another preparatory shot of tequila and then abandons his glass on the table, “I mean, I am clear on the fact that you are blackmailing us into doing this, but what do the winners get.”

“Every bet.” Shaw perks up, pointing at Zoe, “if we beat you, every bet you have on us gets cancelled. Every. Single. One.”

“That’s... shit, Shaw, I have fourteen tags on you right now! That’s unfair,” Zoe complains.

“Fourteen!?” Root raises an eyebrow, impressed, “babe, you gotta up your game.”   
  
“She cheats,” Shaw mutters.

“True, I do cheat. I have four out on Joss, John’s in the twenties or something, he’s not that bright, and this is the  _ only  _ bet I have ever won against Harry, so you know it’s a big deal. But.. how about half. I’ll cancel out half of the bets for the winners.”  
  
“What about me and Root?” Harold asks, with interest, “since we are not in bet-debt, as it were.”

Zoe leans her hands on her knees, “a favour of your choice, as though you have won a bet?”

“Five,” Root declares, smirking.

“Two,” Zoe counters.

“Four,” Harry suggests.

“Three,” Zoe narrows her eyes at him and Root snickers.

“Three, plus you stop making Caleb blush all the time, he’s too shy to hang out with us all,” Root says firmly, and Zoe throws her hands up.

“ _ Fine _ , but honestly, boy needs to get over it if he wants to join Team Machine, you never gave me an inch.” 

“I’ll give you six,” Root yells, too excited by the perfect innuendo opportunity to play it cool, and Shaw groans, thwapping her in the leg.

“That was  _ shocking,  _ even for you, loser,” she gripes, grabbing the tequila bottle, “now the stakes are settled can we get this over with so I can drink and fuck myself into a stupor and forget it ever happened?”

“Yessss,” Joss brings a plate of new lime slices and a six pack of beer out, and everyone grabs one, settling into their respective seating areas.    
  
Zoe hands around small white boards to each person, with a little pen carefully taped on a string, she’s clearly spent time preparing, “so, when you’re asked a question, you have to face each other and write down your answer for you on the TOP and your partner on the BOTTOM, two answers, obviously. And then we turn them over. If you match! one point per match, if you do not match, one shot each.”

“Oh, perfect, it’s also a drinking game,” Harry mumbles, while Shaw nods agreeably, perking up at the mention of more alcohol forcibly consumed.

“Sooo, Joss and I are gonna ask a question first. JC, love of my life, sweetest of the sweet, dreamiest of lady friends, would you care to do the honours?”

Joss rolls her eyes dramatically and dangles her beer between two fingers as she flops down on the floor, between the end of the couch occupied by Shaw and Root and Zoe’s position on a large and ridiculous beanbag, “sure, Zoe, you can stop trying to butter me up, I’m in it to win it.”

“I’m not trying to butter you up! You are the literal queen of the universe, this is common knowledge,” Zoe chortles.

Hitting Zoe without looking, Joss settles back against the side of the beanbag and scans the room, “you losers ready?” 

Root shuffles around a bit in her couch end, so she’s full on facing Shaw, lifting her white board and pressing it against her knees so she can lean on it.

Joss gives then a second to get organised, and then clears her throat, “what is your partner’s favourite category of porn?”

Harold makes a disgruntled noise, and scribbles something, and Root bites her lip in concentration as she neatly prints her answers.

“Anndddd flip!” Zoe declares when everyone is done writing, Root spins hers around and looks eagerly at Shaw’s.

They match on Shaw’s answer, or close enough, Root having written ‘inappropriate relationships,’ and Shaw putting ‘boss/secretary, doctor/patient, shit like that,” which Root is prepared to argue to the death is the same thing.

Root’s answer for herself is ‘vintage lesbian,’ but Shaw, sadly, has written ‘huge bushes,’ and scowls when she sees Root’s answer, “they all have HUGE bushes!”

“Because it’s vintage! Jeez, I’m not  _ in it for the bush!”  _ Root grumbles, “wait, is that why you keep growing your pubes out?”

Shaw mutters something totally incoherent into her beer, basically hiding, and Root can help the laugh that bursts out, “oh, baby, that’s so cute.”

Harry and John matched perfectly on their answers, ‘none’ and ‘violent blowjobs’ respectively.

Zoe cackles in glee and marks down one point for Root and Shaw, two for Harry and John, and Joss dutifully pours and hands over the shots.

“Alright, boys, what’s your question?!” Zoe sits up eagerly and Joss spins so her board is hidden from Zoe’s view.

The boys exchange a glance and then Harry pipes up, “what is your teammate’s favoured form of caffeine ingestion?” And everyone starts writing furiously.

Once again, Root guesses correctly for Shaw ‘black coffee’, and Shaw gets this one right, in that she writes ‘froofy stupid starbucks bullshit,’ to Root’s ‘caramel macchiato,’ which Zoe deems acceptable.

Jc and Zoe nail it with ‘english tea’ for JC and ‘latte’ for Zoe, so no one does any shots, and Root pokes her toes under Shaw’s bum as she asks their first question.

“What is your teammate’s strategy during the Zombie Apocalypse?” Which Shaw had chortled gleefully over regardless of Root pointing out that they have had this discussion at length so anyone making mistakes here should be ashamed of themselves. Sure enough, it’s a solid two points for each team, Harry choosing ‘hide and let John figure out what to do,” John writing ‘protect Harold’, much to Shaw’s vomit noises, Zoe chooses to run for the ocean and Joss chooses defending the Casa.   
  
“Weapon of choice,” Zoe declares, very seriously, which is a nice lead on from the zombie apocalypse question and Zoe has to rule that she means in general not in the specific zombie situation. 

Root scores a point with ‘fists’, for Shaw—which yes, she waggles her eyebrows at—and Shaw writes ‘taser’, looking very smug when it matches up. 

Harold matches John on ‘gun,’ but John gets Harry’s wrong when he writes ‘gun’ for him too and Harry has written ‘knowledge,’ which John then complains about being not technically a weapon and it descends into a small fake fight before they settle down and have their shots like good boys 

“Alright, alright, settle down. Your next question is...” Zoe makes a fake drumroll noise, “where is the strangest place your teammate has had sex?”

Root snickers as she carefully marks down her answer before thinking for a second and adding what she thinks for Shaw, then waits for Zoe to give them the go ahead to flip and groaning. Shaw has written ‘in the library,’ for Root and ‘on a plane,’ for herself, while Root has written down ‘on a rollercoaster,’ and ‘up a tree,’ for zero points.

“Up a tree is totally weirder than on a plane, Shaw. Who hasn’t had sex on a plane?” she grumbles, and Harry raises his hand very solemnly while everyone else looks vaguely shifty.

Zoe snickers, marking points down for the boys while she’s speaking—their boards read ‘in bed’ for Harry and ‘outside’ for John,  “in all fairness, it depends what you count as sex, since our whole language is all very cis-het centric. I mean, the whole virginity thing is  _ ludicrous  _ if you actually think about it for like more than four seconds, and leads to teenage girls getting fucked in the ass in catholic schools,” Root laughs as Zoe’s point takes a nosedive anal sex, and Harry snorts.

“I think we’re all clear that when  _ we  _ are discussing sex, we mean sexual acts,” he points out, and John nods.

“I’m a feminist! Also, give me the tequila.”

Shaw hands it over, taking a moment to refill the shot glasses near her on the table, and everyone agreeably does a shot before Harry asks the next question.

“Okay, what’s your partner’s favourite fake name to give out,” he says with an evil grin, and Joss groans.

“Zoe gives out a different name every time we go anywhere! This is unreasonable,” Zoe pats her on the shoulder comfortingly.

“I believe in you, baby,” to which Joss gives her a weird look before turning her attention to the board.

Zoe and Joss get one point for matching on ‘Selena Bieber’ for Zoe and then Shaw derails the results by almost falling off the sofa in indignation, “you  _ told her! _ You said ‘believe  _ and  _ baby, that is one thousand million percent cheating, disallowed!”

After a moment of heated debate, the boys concur, and Zoe looks extremely irritated as she changes her score on the pad. Joss had written ‘Jillian Jiggs,’ and Zoe had written ‘Ruth Smith,’ which apparently is not a name Joss has ever personally used, but is one that Zoe sometimes tells people JC is called, for no coherent reason.

Root has written ‘Caroline Turing’ for herself, which Shaw had not even tried to guess at, but they match on Shaw’s fake name, the rather generic ‘Samantha Gray’.

Shaw asks the next question, “If your partner had a superhero power, what power would it be?” with a smug grin, because the amount of heated debates Root has been privvy to and the speed at which the Casa change their preferences would put the Flash to shame.

She’s foiled, however, by JC and Zoe matching two for two with, ‘mind control,’ for Zoe, the very concept of which is  _ terrifying  _ to Root, and ‘lie detection,’ for JC, the girls high five and look smug.

The boys also nail it, John picking, ‘kinetic conversion,’ and Harry picking, ‘technopath,’ and Shaw downs another shot, disgruntled. 

“What’s the score?” Root inquires, tugging Shaw’s hair gently just for fun.

Zoe does some speedy math before announcing, “the boys have the lead with seven, you and us are tied six to six,” Harry and John high five each other before JC asks the final question for that team.

“Okay, what is  _ your own  _ most annoying habit. So Root you gotta write what you think Shaw thinks her own most annoying habit is, and Shaw you write what Root would say about herself, got it?”   
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw mumbles distractedly, already writing with her tongue poking out.

To Root’s extreme delight, they match both answers, “chronic masturbation,” for Shaw, which Root doesn’t find annoying in the slightest, it’s more the trail of abandoned underwear constantly festooning their furniture that is bothersome, but Shaw thinks badly of it herself sometimes, and ‘biting my nails,’ for Root. 

The boys match one and miss one, ‘dirty socks in the bed,’ for John is matched, but for Harry himself he wrote ‘needing to unplug all the electronics before leaving the house,’ and John wrote ‘never letting me pay,’ leading to some whistles and shouting about sugar daddies before the shots are duly taken. 

John asks the next question, “what is their favourite food.  _ ACTUAL  _ food, Shaw, to eat,” and sits back cozily to watch as the girls all write their answers down. Root is feeling pretty buzzed, but is fairly confident in her answer of ‘steak,’ which Shaw does indeed match, but they miss with Root writing ‘apples’ and Shaw writing ‘fruit,’ which Zoe disallows as too general, much to her complaining noises and clear irritation.

Zoe matches JC with ‘burritos’, but JC wrote ‘wieners’ for Zoe, which besides making Shaw just about fall off the sofa laughing, sadly doesn’t match Zoe’s own handwriting of ‘fancy grilled cheese.’

“I wasn’t even making a dick joke,” JC declares sadly, and Zoe pets her head comfortingly.

“I do love wieners, you’re right, I just love grilled cheese even more.”

“I should have known,” JC shakes her head, picking up her punishment shot and throwing it back, pulling a horrible face in reaction, “urgh tequila tastes worse the more you drink, why is that?”

“It’s your body trying to tell you it’s poison,” John snickers, waving a hand at Root, “come on then, last question? What’s the score?”

Zoe consults the sheet, “we’ve got seven, Shoot are on nine, and you guys are on eight, so you could win if you get both, we could draw Shoot, or they could win if we all fuck everything up. Anyone’s game, eh? Better make it a good one,” she points at Shaw meaningfully.

“If your teammate could punch any historical figure, who would it be?” Shaw leans over and butts her head into Root’s arm while the others are answering, “I didn’t do that badly,” she nods sagely, “so you’re not allowed to be mad that I don’t know stuff about you.”   
  
Root turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow, speaking quietly, “babe, you know millions of things about me. I would never be mad about a stupid game like this anyway, but you do. Either way, yeah, you nailed it. Wanna get nailed in return?” 

Shaw smirks at her and returns her attention to the game, but with the dimple at the corner of her mouth that means ‘fuck yes.”

Harry and John flip their boards to reveal zero matches, with John writing Hitler for himself, Harry writing James Watson for himself, John writing nothing for Harry, shrugging helplessly, and Harry having written ‘Pol Pot’ for John. 

“Well, at least they were both terrible dictators,” Zoe points out, “but you are outta the running. Shame, John, I guess I still have like twenty six opportunities to make you do ridiculous things. Have you reconsidered the tattoo option?”   
  
Harry glares at her, putting his board down, “you are  _ not  _ tattooing my boyfriend for your own amusement!”   
  
“What if it was your name,” Zoe wheedles, “on his butt?” 

Harry looks thoughtful for a split second and then shakes his head, making Root laugh before checking Zoe and JC’s boards.

They got a twofer, somehow. Witchcraft, presumably. Zoe would apparently punch Andrew Jackson, and Joss would punch Strom Thurmond.”    
  
Shaw narrows her eyes at them, “there is no way you didn’t, cheaters.”

“Naw, we just had that exact conversation like a week ago,” Zoe declares, smugness colouring her tone, “so we are neck and neck with nine, boys, we need a deciding round. Take your shots and come up with a plan!”

The boys confer quietly for a few minutes, and then turn back to the group, “how many oreos can your teammate eat in a minute...  _ But.... _ one of you guesses, and one of you eats, and whoever is closest wins,” John looks far too pleased with himself, and Harry has a smirk twinkling in his eyes.

“Shotty not eating them,” Root yelps, shuffling back into the corner, “I’ll guess.”

“I’ll eat ‘em,” Joss rubs her hands together, “okay Zoe, you can do this, you have seen me stuff my face with oreos on many an occasion, how many can I eat in thirty seconds?”

John gets up and heads for the kitchen, coming back with four trays of oreos, and shrugging when Root raises an eyebrow, “shit, I have no idea how many they’re gonna eat.”

Shaw rubs her hands together excitedly, “guess well, Root. I want my dignity back.”

“And I want Zoe to owe me three favours,” Root agrees, thinking hard before scrawling a number down on on her whiteboard after doing a little math in her head.

Zoe hums and haws before also writing something down, and nodding. John opens the oreo trays and starts piling them up on the coffee table, “I’ll count Joss, you count Shaw,” he says to Harry before getting the timer on his phone set up, “ready, steady, eat!”

Shaw immediately starts shovelling her face full of oreos, methodically destroying the pile, and Root looks down at her number ruefully. She’s gonna be in trouble. Joss is falling behind, but is also continuing determinedly, choking down a cough and making a distressed face as the timer clicks down to zero. She grabs a beer and necks it, regardless of the presumably disgusting mix.

Shaw looks up triumphantly and Harry declares, “thirty two, that was... very impressive,” with a shocked look on his face. Joss only managed seventeen, but Root’s guess of twenty one is extremely far off the mark compared to Zoe’s guess of fifteen, and Zoe does a victory dance while Joss tries to avoid being flailed on until she’s successfully cleared her throat.

“Amazing game, losers. I love you all!” Zoe shouts happily, and Root pats Shaw sympathetically on the shoulder.

“Sorry, babe. That’s on me. I should know never to underestimate your eating prowess.”

“Twenty one?  _ Twenty one?!”  _ Shaw sounds so irate Root can’t help but laugh a little, “that is embarrassing, Root, it’s like you’ve never even met me,” she collapses back with a huff.

Root nods, “yeah, it is just like that,” she leans forward and snags an oreo from the abandoned pile, “so, Zoe... you don’t actually win anything according to my remembrance of the rules,” Zoe opens her mouth, and then shuts it with a devastated look on her face, and John just about dies laughing.

“She’s right! You blackmailed us, bribed Root and Harry, and didn’t say what you’d get if you won!”

“Uh,” Joss raises her hand, “I’m pretty sure I get half my tickets erased.”

“Well, shit.” Zoe flops back into her beanbag, pouting, “I guess we'll have to play again.”

Shaw grabs the tequila.

  
  
  
  



	4. Bear's Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bear gets to go to the doggy theme park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for [alana_banana](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alana_banana/pseuds/alana_banana) for the recent comment influx, because thanks to them I actually got on with writing. Me when I wake up to a comment: I should write some fic! Me when I wake up normally: *forgets I even write fanfic* I should read some fic 
> 
> **content warning** mentions of Hanna (who is dead in this universe also) some semi public smut, marked with a rule, **accidental daddy kink** (idk it just happened, it started as a joke?! yikes @me), mentions of blowjobs I guess, mentions of marijuana (although they do get baked but offscreen I guess?) minor emotional stuff kind of at the end.
> 
> Note: Doggy theme parks are an actual thing, but sadly I don't think any this epic exist. I researched for about four minutes, got bored and made this shit up :D

“Did you bring the kitchen sink?” Root asks wryly from the driver’s seat of her car, where she’s been waiting for the last ten minutes while Shaw zips back and forth, making sure she has all of Bear’s favourite food, toys, blankets, his bed, and everything else she can think of. The trunk is pretty full, by this point, with barely enough room for Shaw’s own overnight bag.

“I’m just trying to make sure my favourite guy has the best day ever,” Shaw grumbles, finally patting the back seat so Bear jumps in and settles down into his cozy gray blanket with a soft whuff. Shaw hops in the front and slams the door, clicking her belt on with what seems like an unnecessary amount of wriggling.

Root starts the car and Shaw immediately changes the radio station away from Taylor Swift, making Root roll her eyes, “he’s gonna have an amazing time, it’s a doggy theme park, and you’ve spent the last three days planning our route through the attractions to maximise the fun. I swear, you put more energy into planning this trip than you did into going away for soccer camp.” It’s cute though, so she’s not actually complaining, just teasing.

Shaw just ‘hmphs’ under her breath in response, and Root pulls confidently out of the driveway, putting her hand up to toy with Shaw’s ear as soon as she’s on the road. The tinned voice of the sat nav set up on her phone tells her to make a left, and she does so, then flicks the sound off, being perfectly capable of following the visual instructions without the annoying lady telling her what to do.

“You don’t even follow robot instructions well,” Shaw snickers, and Root grins, tugging her earlobe playfully. 

The morning sun is streaming through the windshield, not a cloud in the cornflower sky, and Root hums under her breath happily as she takes the ramp onto the highway. 

Shaw puts up with the ear petting good-naturedly for a few minutes and then twitches subtly away, so Root puts her hand back on the wheel, tapping the rhythm of the song on the radio—she thinks it’s Garbage—out with her fingertips on the warm faux-leather. 

They sit in companionable silence for a while, and then Root snickers as they pass a layby with a car parked up in it, making Shaw cock an eyebrow in question, “just thinking it’s a shame we’re too practical and mature for road head.”

“Are we?” Shaw smirks, “I mean, moving road head, yeah, that’s a terrible plan and I never understood how people thought that was a good idea, but feel free to pull over any time.”

“Whatever,” Root scoffs, “you woke me up an hour before our agreed upon time so we could ‘miss the morning rush hour’, as if I believe you’ll let me ‘waste’ twenty minutes of our time to get me off on the side of the road.”

“One, getting you off is never a waste of time, two, like you’d take twenty minutes what alternate ‘I can control myself’ universe are you living in? And three, I woke you up nicely, didn’t I?” When Root glances at Shaw, she’s smirking meaningfully. 

“No complaints, certainly,” Root agrees, not bothering to argue the rest of Shaw’s fairly valid points as she concentrates on switching lanes, glancing at the satnav to confirm her exit. The doggy theme park, cleverly titled ‘Ruffin’ It’, which made Shaw chortle for a good ten minutes, is about an hour away from the Casa, but traffic is still pretty light and she thinks they’ll make it in less. 

Looking at the clock leads Root to believe that they’re going to arrive before the place even opens at nine, which Shaw will probably be thrilled about—according to her research the two main attractions get fairly long queues and Shaw wants to pick up tickets for the special events—Root expects that their itinerary will be stuck to very seriously. 

Shaw has also booked them into a dog-friendly hotel for the night, so they can stay until closing for the ‘night time laser play’ area and not have to drive home after. Since she also saw Shaw pack several joints, Root assumes that this will be an influenced event, which makes a hotel a pretty good option in her opinion

In the back seat, Bear ruffs happily as Shaw winds his window down so he can put his head out a bit and smile into the slipstream. Sitting in the passenger seat, pouring over her day plan, Shaw is as happy as Root has ever seen her. Root can’t keep the little smile off her face as Shaw once again consults her myriad notes on a park map.

“I’m worried he won’t like the Spin Around very much, so I think we should do that near the end,” she says absently, clearly just thinking aloud, and Root snorts softly.

“You’re in charge, dear, I’m just the driver and bag holder while you kids roll around in the mud, or whatever.”

“Well, there’s a barn as well, so maybe while Bear is getting a nice doggy massage you can roll me around in the hay,” Shaw smirks. 

“Would that beat out ‘on a plane’ for your most exciting bangs location?” Root teases, changing lanes again and merging into her exit competently. 

“Look, I just said that because you can get in the most trouble on planes, okay. I don’t know what makes a location more exciting than possible arrest, we live in America, we could be put on a no-fly list,” Shaw grumps, but good-naturedly.

“Yeah, I see your point. I just feel like we could definitely improve on it,” Root grins.

“Well, make a list, then, you’re in charge of bangs plans,” Shaw snags a bottle of gatorade off the floor and gulps some down before proffering it to Root, who declines with a shake of her head.

“On a rollercoaster was really fun, wouldn’t mind doing that again,” Root muses, swinging into a gas station and pulling in.

“You never told me who that was with,” Shaw puts her socked feet up on the dash, wiggling her cotton-clad toes in the sun while Root parks.

Root considers lying for a brief moment, but rapidly remembers she doesn’t want to lie to Shaw, and sighs, “Hanna,” she hops out of the car, shutting the door before Shaw can respond and setting up her card on the machine. She’s never really talked to Shaw at great length about Hanna, it’s not something she’s talked about with anyone, really, minus an extremely drunken night with Daizo he’s sweet enough not to bring up again. But even almost two years on, thinking about Hanna still makes Root’s chest feel tight and heavy. 

But she brought it up, kinda, so maybe she does want to talk about it. 

Shaw slides out of the car, pads around the back and leans on the trunk while Root fills the car up. She’s still not wearing any shoes, “how long were you guys... together?” She inquires, not looking at Root, fiddling with the leather cuff on her wrist she’s taken to wearing lately. The air smells like gasoline and sunshine, it’s clogging Root’s throat.

Buying herself some time, she turns to the machine to get her receipt. Shaw doesn’t push, just leans and waits, and Root glances her out of the corner of her eye. Shaw looks relaxed, interested maybe, but not desperate or anything. If anybody gets not wanting to talk about stuff, it’s Shaw.

Silently, Root gets back in the car, waiting for Shaw to get in before pulling out of the space.

They just drive for a few minutes, Root’s thoughts pinwheeling and swirling before she can get them in order, figure out what to say, and then she starts talking, “we, we knew each other from when we were little kids. She was my first kiss. First most stuff, actually. We started dating when we were fifteen, it was... good. Really good, for a while, but it kind of petered out when we were seventeen or so. Both too young to know what we wanted or how to have that, I guess. We settled into being best friends again pretty easily, fucked sometimes, casually. Saw other people, decided not to sleep together any more, fell back into bed with alarming frequency,” Root shrugs, “you know how it is.”

“Not really, I usually prefer not even getting their name and number,” Shaw flashes a grin at her, it’s comforting, and Root shifts a little so she can rest her hand on Shaw’s bare thigh, wanting some contact. Shaw pats her hand gently. Her skin is warm and dry, smooth under Root’s palm. It helps. 

“We never really dated as adults, just fucked a fair amount, went to kink parties together a lot and stuff. We were... very close. I never thought I’d be close like that with anyone again,” Root glances over to see if she’s making Shaw uncomfortable, but Shaw’s just relaxed in her seat, her hand doesn’t twitch or tense where it’s resting on the back of Root’s.

“Then me?” she asks after a moment, and Root nods.

“Then you.” 

“I’m sorry, that you lost her,” Shaw says carefully, and Root squeezes her thigh.

Nobody says anything else for a while, and then the satnav reveals they are almost at their destination, and Shaw turns to the backseat, putting her special Bear voice on, “hear that boy? We’re almost there! Are you excited?”

Picking up on her tone, Bear ruffs happily and Root smiles, she can feel her face is soft with affection, and she shakes her head to clear it before Shaw calls her on her ‘soppy heart eyes’ as she likes to call them. 

They make quick work of parking, the lot is still basically empty, and Shaw hops out, opening the back door for Bear, who jumps down and spins around excitedly, “we should go to the cafe, because the park doesn’t open for another half an hour, and I’m starving,” she announces, after checking her watch.

“Second breakfast?” Root teases, popping the trunk and grabbing the day backpack, stuffed with supplies, chucking it at Shaw before closing the trunk. She’ll end up carrying it later while Shaw frolics, undoubtedly, but since it is chock-full of shit Root sees absolutely no reason for lugging around, she thinks Shaw should take charge at first.

Shaw oofs as she catches it, shooting Root a wounded look, “I barely ate anything at the Casa!”

“Mhmm,” Root snickers, closing the trunk and swinging Bear’s leash in a circle idly, “cafe it is.”

Shaw leads the way, grumbling about how cereal isn’t food and toast barely counts, and what’s a breakfast without bacon and or eggs, how’s an athlete supposed to survive, and other such things. 

Root trails behind her, admiring the cuteness that is Shaw in faded denim shorts, her brown, muscular legs complimented by her black and white converse. A faded bitemark is just about visible, peeking over the neck of her white tanktop, and it makes Root wanna grab her and chew on her a bit more. Sometimes she wonders if she has more in common with Bear than initially expected. Mostly after witnessing his dedicated destruction of chew toys, though. It just feels so fucking good to sink her teeth into Shaw’s muscles, hear her whimper and moan. The thought sends a pleasant shiver through her. 

However, she’s resigned to the fact that today is about Bear, well, Shaw and Bear, and that her pervy impulses will have to be somewhat restrained. She’s kind of surprised she even got invited, if she’s honest, Shaw had to buy an extra ticket, and she didn’t tell Root she had until the day before yesterday.

It’s hotter than she anticipated, so Root hooks her hair up into a bun while they cross the asphalt, heading for the path that leads to the cafe according to the large wooden sign in the shape of a doggy bone. 

“I think I’m gonna have the Hound Dogs,” Shaw declares, whistling Bear down the right path.

“Seems a bit weird to name the food after dogs,” Root prods her in the back lightly, “makes me think we’re eating dogs.”

“We are not eating dogs, Root, they’re puns! You know what a pun is, I’m sure, because you are constantly making sex jokes with them,” Shaw spins around, fending off Root’s pokey fingers, so Root takes the opportunity to slide her other hand around Shaw’s neck and pull her in for a kiss, cause she’s so cute when she’s a little irate.

“Oh, sure,” she murmurs after indulging in a deep, sliding kiss that leaves Shaw looking a little dazed, blinking in the bright sunlight when she opens her eyes. Root watches her figure out which way up is again with pleasure, “so what should I eat?”

“Me?” Shaw inquires, slightly breathless, then blinks and looks down, Bear is nudging against the back of her leg, “I mean, you’ll probably like the puppy chow. Vegetable hash.”

“Sounds good,” Root agrees, following Shaw down the slightly bouncy path as she starts walking again.

The puppy chow _is_ good, it turns out, as is the cafe itself. There are eight dogs that just live there, and Bear makes friends with a couple of them, frolicking in a dog-safe play space outside while Root and Shaw eat a second breakfast on a little patio in the sun. 

Shaw sets an alarm, because she is the most serious about this day plan, and when it beeps they pay their bill, snag Bear and head for the main entrance. There’s not so much a queue as a couple of people milling around with dogs and children, herding them towards the bright red astro path that leads to the huge sign saying ‘Entrance’ Once again, it’s bone-shaped. Root senses a Theme, and laughs a little at her own inner joke.

They get their wristbands and a tag for Bear’s collar as well as the tickets Shaw wants for later events and rides in a matter of minutes, and then Shaw is determinedly leading the way to the Cyclone Park, a play area with water spouts and splash pools. 

Dropping the backpack on the ground, Root takes off her shoes and sits with her legs in a warm water pool, watching Shaw and Bear wrestling amicably in and out of various temperature pools and darting around miniature geysers. She’d be more inclined to join in if she wasn’t overly full from her second breakfast, and also if her observation point didn’t provide so many opportunities for adorable Shaw pictures. She might even be able to wangle getting some of these up on her fridge, since they heavily feature Bear. Shaw keeps taking down the pictures Root puts up and hiding them in the cutlery drawer. It’s a fun game at this point, but Root is determined to get some pictures that stay up. If she ever had anyone visit her apartment they should be able to admire the adorableness of her girlfriend, after all. Maybe one day she’ll get that nude bondage shoot of her dreams, but Shaw is, understandably, still a little unnerved by the idea of cameras in the bedroom. When NOVA’s rebuilt maybe Shaw can make friends with Them and feel more secure in her virtual privacy, Root muses, watching Bear leap onto Shaw’s head with an excited bark.

After about a half hour, Shaw and Bear get bored of splashing around and come over to shake off on Root, before flopping down next to her, both of them panting heavily and steaming a little in the sun. Shaw’s white top is now _completely_ see through, and Root can make out the lines of muscle leading down to her groin through the soaked material. 

“This is already amazing,” Shaw declares, patting Bear’s soaked flank. 

“Something’s amazing, that’s for sure, ” Root drawls, sliding her sunglasses down her nose so she can pointedly check Shaw out, and Shaw grins, wriggling a little at the attention. Water drips off her soaked clothes and hair to puddle underneath her on the paw-safe tiling.

“You’re gonna have a boner all day, aren’t you?” Shaw inquires, propping herself up on one elbow.

“It’s not my fault you’re so attractive,” Root doesn’t deny the charge, and leans over to run her finger down Shaw’s hip.

“True. I blame my dad. Excellent bone structure and a high metabolism runs in the family,” Shaw says smugly, her tone belied by the way she shivers slightly at Root’s light touch. 

Just before Root leans in to kiss her, “does your pup need a snack?” A voice from above them inquires, and she tilts her head back to see a young man—maybe fifteen or sixteen—carrying a tray of cellophane wrapped treats. 

Shaw wriggles into a sitting position, groping Root inadvertently as she makes a grab for her wallet, “definitely! We’ll take whatever’s the best,” she declares, fishing a ten out and offering it to him.

“Sounds good!” The boy deftly procures a large and meaty looking stick, handing it over and taking the cash, “is it pup’s birthday?”

 

“Naw, this is my Christmas present,” Shaw unwraps the treat and Bear perks up immediately, snuffling the air and nudging her with his nose, “Bear, bedelen,” Bear sits back on his haunches and holds his front paws up, and Shaw carefully balances the treat on his nose before saying, “de jouwe,” and Bear snaps it up happily, lying down to chew on it.

“Well, you and your wife have a great day,” the boy grins, handing the change over to Root, and she cracks up when she sees Shaw’s dumbfounded face.

“We will, thanks!” Root says brightly, and the boy gives them a last smile before wandering over to the next group of people.

“ _Wife_ ,” Shaw eventually manages to sputter, “ _wife!_ ”

“Well, I thought it was very sweet of him,” Root laughs, totally amused by Shaw’s indignant expression.

“We aren’t old enough to be _married_ ,” Shaw sounds absolutely disgusted, and Root just about chokes on her own laughter, before answering.

“Babe, people get married at eighteen, we’re old enough to be married. I know plenty of people who are married at our age.”

“Gross,” Shaw complains, grabbing the end of Bear’s treat and play fighting with him, “marriage is for old, straight people.”

 

“Also, tax purposes,” Root points out, good-naturedly. She’s not super pro-marriage or anything, she is, however, super pro-messing-with-Shaw.

Shaw ignores her in favour of rolling Bear into a nearby pool, thoroughly soaking Root who shrieks in surprise and then decides ‘fuck it’, and follows them in.

They dick about in the water for another half an hour or so before Shaw says it’s time to move on, so they can make it to the rides in time. 

Root finds it extremely unreasonable that there are doggy drying stations and not human drying stations, and Shaw laughs at her bedraggled state until Root threatens to throw Shaw’s snacks in the water. 

They take it in turns to take Bear through the drier, which makes their clothes a little less soaked through. Once Bear is dry, his fur all puffy from the vigorous blower he had a great time snapping at, they head toward the rides.

Root declines to go on any of them, because she’s mildly concerned that either Bear or Shaw is going to throw up on her, with the amount they’ve already eaten, and settles for hanging back at the fences, watching the two of them spinning around and being swung about with what she’s sure is a ridiculous look of dorky affection on her face.

“Kids, eh?” A motherly-looking figure says as Root snaps a couple of photos of Bear and Shaw at the top of a moving walkway game thing, and Root chortles to herself.

“Mhmm,” she replies, highly amused, before going to meet them at the exit and pulling Shaw into a dramatic, sloppy kiss before she’s even out the gate, much to the excitement of a pair of teenage boys behind her.

“What was that for?” Shaw inquires once she’s been released, and Root shrugs.

“Fun,” her hand brushes against Shaw’s as they turn and head for the obstacle course arena, ominously named ‘Swamp Park’. 

Root demurs participating in the terrifying looking course and whoops encouragement from the sidelines instead. Of course, both Bear and Shaw end up covered in mud, but extremely happy, having made it through the course fast enough to win a prize, which turns out to be a fancy collar that Shaw admires with pride before storing safely in the backpack Root is dutifully lugging around.

“Is that for you, or for Bear?” Root inquires, avoiding touching her because she’s gross, although the mud does smell pretty good, all things considered. It is probably full of excited dog piss though, Root isn’t a dummy.

“Bear, obviously,” Shaw huffs, “it’s way too wide for me. I’m gonna shower and then Bear gets a massage and we have an hour to ourselves.”

“Ooh, what was that about a barn?” Root snickers, agreeably starting in the correct direction pointed out by muddy fingers she squeals and tries to avoid as Shaw attempts a cursory groping.

“I asked, apparently you have to have a dog with you to go in the barn area, but there’s some human games and stuff five minutes away from the doggy massage parlour,” Shaw gives up trying to place muddy handprints on Root’s bum, and wipes them off on her shirt instead.

“Sounds good,” Root agrees, relaxing as Shaw deweaponises, and they wander down the path to the showers.

Shaw and Bear get under the sprayers for a few minutes, until Shaw is, once again, seethrough in the shirt area, much to Root’s appreciation. Then they drop Bear off at the parlour with Shaw exhorting him to ‘relax and have a good time, boy,’ before reluctantly leaving him with the competent-looking trainer. 

They head to the human area, and play around on a couple of the carnival games before Shaw spots a mini golf course off to the side. No one else is playing, and they make their way around the course, Shaw kicking Root’s ass thoroughly, much to her delight and Root’s total lack of giving a fuck, mostly just enjoying spending the day with her favourite little grump having such a nice time. 

The last few holes go around a copse of trees, and just as Shaw is lining up for her shot at the enormous windmill, Root has an idea. “I’ll fuck you in the windmill if you get a hole in one,” she promises, just as Shaw takes her shot.

It careens up the slope, over the little bridge, and just makes it through the swinging blades without being deflected, Root blinks. She was only half-serious, but Shaw turns to her, delighted and leans on the end of her club, “oh you will, will you?” 

She looks so cute and excited and pleased with herself, Root glances around and shrugs, shoving damp Shaw in the general direction of the windmill. They have to hop a small brick wall, and it takes a few minutes to get the locked door at the back open, but Root has been able to pick locks for years, and she makes decent work of it with a paperclip and part of a pen lid, much to Shaw’s admiration.

* * *

“Okay, it’s super hot when you get all felonious,” she grins, pushing past Root as soon as the door is open, “if we go to jail I promise I’ll be your daddy and protect you.”

 

“If anyone is anyone’s daddy, I’m definitely yours,” Root laughs, following her into the dark, small space and shutting the door behind her. She has to duck a little, but Shaw can stand up, and the sunlight coming in from the top and the ball entry hole is enough to illuminate them adequately as her eyes adjust. 

“Well, yeah, but I mean in prison. I’ll punch people who wanna fuck with you not in a fun way,” Shaw hastily unbuttons her wet shorts and slides them down, kicking them off to gather dust on the wet material, to Root’s eyeroll, “how do you want me, doggy style?” She quips with a grin. 

“Take your shirt off, then turn round, hands on the wall,” Root licks her lips in anticipation, “so, you’re saying you’ll be my protective detail?” Shaw obediently yanks her top over her head, deposits it on top of her shorts and then spins and puts her palms against the wall of the windmill. Root slides up behind her, pressing against her almost naked body.

Her voice is a little husky when she replies, “well, probably we’d have to pretend you were my sub, cause otherwise I’d be in fights every fucking day tryna prove that just cause I take it real good doesn’t mean anyone can push either of us around,” Shaw’s breathing picks up as Root slides her hands around her hips, scratching her soft skin gently with blunt nails. Shaw’s hair is wet and curling down her back, and Root nuzzles it out of her way as she presses in even closer. 

“Well, you better practise being quiet, then, because all your ‘Root, fuck, give it to me, harder, oh godddd’,” Root moans dramatically, “might give the game away.”

“True,” Shaw shivers as Root runs her hands over her stomach, outlining her sixpack with explorative fingers, “I can be quiet though.”

“Gonna call me daddy?” Root breathes onto her neck, pushing one hand down Shaw’s underpants and scratching through her pubic hair lightly before reaching lower. Shaw’s not really wet yet, but she’s getting there, and Root pulls her bra up with her free hand to hurry proceedings up.

“Mm, you into that?” Shaw tips her head back, arching her firm, soft breasts into Root’s exploring hand, nipple pebbling against Root’s palm as Shaw shifts her legs apart for ease of access.

Root snorts softly, pinching Shaw’s nipple hard as she teases her index finger between Shaw’s pussy lips, “who knows? You bring a lot of kinks out in me. I’ve never tried the ‘daddy’ thing.”

“Oh, yeah, daddy, touch me,” Shaw murmurs, clearly half-joking, but her pussy twitches against Root’s exploring fingers as she says it, “shit, maybe I’m into it.”

Voices outside interrupt before Root can reply, and she braces her foot against the inside of the door, just in case, as she works her fingers lower, spreading Shaw’s burgeoning arousal up and around her clit, making her wriggle and her breathing catch. Arousal pulses agreeably in Root’s groin, excitement making her skin prickle.

From outside, they hear, “look, some people left their putters, I guess we should take them back.” 

Root hides a snort in Shaw’s neck, whispering, “I guess our game is over,” as she rubs Shaw’s clit, pressing her body against Shaw’s warm back, wishing she’d taken her shirt off so she could drag her nipples over Shaw’s skin. 

Shaw just makes a quiet little whimpering sound and spreads her legs still further, and Root pushes down, spreading her open and humming happily against the side of Shaw’s throat.

She bites down on the warm skin under her mouth, gentle to start with so as not to startle a yelp out of her, as the people outside take their first shot and it clangs off a spinning blade, making them both jump a little. 

Abandoning Shaw’s nipple, she hooks the fingers of her now-free hand through the crotch of Shaw’s panties, pulling them across to one side so she can trace around her entrance, absorbing the little shiver that rocks through the small, muscular body in front of her.

“Fuck,” Shaw breathes out, very, very quietly, and Root uses her hips to push Shaw forward, until she’s leaning her forehead against the wall, legs spread and arms bent. Another shot ricochets somewhere off the windmill’s wooden sides, and Root releases her mouthful of flesh in favour of licking a hot path across the nape of Shaw’s neck to the other side, nibbling on the smooth skin of Shaw’s shoulder.

When her fingers are slick enough, she moves her wrapped-around hand up to Shaw's clit again and pushes inside properly with the other. Shaw freezes and cocks her hips, lifting her ass up and panting rapidly through her nose, breathing out, “fuck, daddy,” and clenching on Root’s fingers. Turns out Root herself can take or leave the daddy kink, but Shaw seems to be somewhat into it, judging from the sudden rush of arousal soaking Root’s knuckles.

“Mmm, good girl,” Root murmurs, licking a swathe of slightly salty shoulder and then seizing it in her teeth, sucking rhythmically as she begins to thrust in and out slowly, her other hand working circles on Shaw’s clit.

Shaw can’t swallow that moan, but it’s lost under a cheer from outside as a ball thuds into the collection tube behind the windmill’s ball entrance and rolls down merrily to be collected.

The voices from outside declare how great a shot it was for a moment, and then fade away, and Root redoubles her efforts, fucking into Shaw’s tight pussy harder, putting the force of her hips behind her hand.

Shaw grunts and lets Root bully her onto her tiptoes, breathing in quiet little pants of ‘oh, oh, oh,’ as Root massages her gspot firmly and pulls out a little before slamming back home hard.

“Fuck, Root, I’m gonna,” Shaw groans quietly, and Root sucks on her shoulder one last time before releasing her to reply.  
“I know, baby, I can feel it. Come for me, sugar, come for daddy,” and Shaw does, with a sharp little cry that echoes against the wooden walls, and Root snickers into her neck, rubbing her through her orgasm with determined fingers, staying deep inside as Shaw shudders against her, “looks like you definitely have a daddy kink,” she murmurs when Shaw’s done, pulling out slowly and sorting Shaw’s panties out for her while she leans her head on the wall and breathes heavily.

“Urgh, I think it’s just you,” Shaw gathers herself, pulls her undies away from her pussy for a second before settling them more comfortably, “anything perverse with you turns me on, it’s a problem,” She doesn’t sound like she thinks it’s a problem.

“You don’t sound like you think it’s a problem,” Root points out, pulling her shorts and undies down in one movement and leaving them around one ankle, “come suck me off.”

“You don’t even have a dick on,” Shaw observes, shakily turning around and obediently sliding into a kneel, the ground is dusty and hard and should leave nice marks on her knees, Root thinks, admiring the look of her, wet and dishevelled and flush with orgasm.

“Eh,” Root shrugs, “it’s the principle of the thing,” she winds her hand into Shaw’s hair and steps forward, bracing her free hand on the wall above Shaw’s head, “enough chit chat, daddy wants to come,” she smirks, and Shaw rolls her eyes, which somewhat loses its efficacy since she’s on her knees in a minigolf windmill.

She leans forward though, pressing her mouth against Root’s pussy and inhaling deeply, making a little noise in the back of her throat as Root pulls her hair.

No one else comes to play the windmill while Shaw is getting her off, and there’s no one there when they emerge after enjoying a post-orgasmic joint either, dishevelled and giggly to go and collect Bear from the massage parlour.

He also seems very relaxed and pleased with himself as they wander along to the inflatable waterslides, and they all have a ridiculous and fun time running up and down the bouncy steps and hurling themselves down the slides.

The night time laser play park is also excellent, and Root’s exhausted by the time they get back to the hotel. Shaw is sun-burned, pleased with herself, and sporting a rather nice hickey on the side of her neck, so Root does feel like it was a day well spent.

Bear gets to sleep on the foot of the bed, and Shaw sleepily murmurs, “love you, buddy,” to him while they get cozy. Root sorts quietly, pressing a kiss to the back of Shaw’s neck, and Shaw reaches over to pat her butt with a clumsy hand, “I like you best of any people,” she mutters, clearly almost asleep, and Root falls asleep with a huge grin on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT ONE SHOT IS SHOOTZO AHHHHH.


	5. Triangles are My Favourite Shape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHOOTZO SHOOTZO SHOOTZO  
> all smut all the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE. And honestly I've read it too many times now because I wrote it MONTHS ago and keep editing it for whatever reason, so it might be terrible at this point I can barely cope any more. But I hope this lives up to Tessellate (operation: all threesomes named after lyrics from that song is going well, you'll note) and was worth the wait. 17k of smut, so... can't be bad, right?
> 
>  **content warning** yikes. Okay. So. Threesome, oral, anal, digital penetration, dual person digital penetration, bondage, blindfolds, buttplugs, buttplugs that are ALSO restraints, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, orgasm theft, exclusion, rimjobs, handjobs, feeldoes, nipple pinching, biting, scratching, hair pulling, domination, sadism, dp (zoe receiving), forced orgasm, riding people's faces when they're basically unconscious but in a fun consensual way, I think that's everything. Idk if you're reading my trash you should have come across everything that is in here so you're probably fine.

18:12 MORGAN @ SHAW, ROOT // I have an idea //

18:14 SHAW @ MORGAN, ROOT // you should get a tattoo that says ‘warning’? //

18:15 MORGAN @ SHAW, ROOT // atmosphere haven’t been cool for like five years, Shaw, you need to stop. no, my idea is you guys fuck me stupid this evening. thoughts? //

18:22 ROOT @ MORGAN, SHAW // Come by in an hour //

18:23 ROOT @ MORGAN, SHAW // Oh and cut your nails or I won’t let you fuck Shaw //

18:24 MORGAN @ SHAW // is it weird that that message from Root turns me on? //

18:24 SHAW @ MORGAN // ‘I won’t let you’= my sexuality //

18:25 ROOT @ MORGAN //  ;) //

18:26 MORGAN @ ROOT, SHAW // okay see you in an hour!!!!! I am excited!!!! //

***

 _But it ain't the same without the pain_ _  
_ _I want you to hurt me harder_

 

While Shaw is showering, Root clears up a little bit and leaves various things in easy reach around the apartment, then she starts to line up some music, humming to herself. She’s pretty excited about the evening plans, but also a little nervous. She feels like she is very in charge of the whole thing, and she knows that Shaw has placed utter confidence in Root being able to lead them through this smoothly. But... it’s not like they haven’t talked about it themselves, or that Root hasn’t spent time thinking about it. _It’s gonna be fine!,_ she tells herself. Zoe is just about the least stressful sex-person Root has ever met, and she can’t imagine things getting weird between them all now. It’s been like six months since they originally started discussing the idea of having a threesome, and Shaw and Root are in a really good place, she thinks. And Zoe is their biggest fan, so Root is confident she won’t do anything to fuck with them.

After thinking for a minute, she sets up the entire Zolita Immaculate Conception EP, because she likes a hilarious parallel as much as the next enormous pervert geek. She sticks one of her general sex playlists up to come on after the EP finishes, cause fifteen minutes sure as shit isn’t gonna be enough time to even get started, she snorts at the mere idea of it. She has big plans, and Shaw has informed her in no uncertain terms that they have to rock Zoe’s socks off and fuck her til she can’t be fucked anymore. A challenge Root is all too happy to accept, sexual over-achiever that she knows she is.

A soft noise behind her makes her turn around. Shaw has emerged from the bedroom in tight black jeans and a thin white tshirt that hides basically nothing that is happening underneath it, Root can almost see the threadcount of her excessively skimpy bra, she’s barefoot, toes curled in the carpeting. She looks kinda shy for a moment, smoothing her shirt down as Root catches her eyes. Cute, she’s making an effort. Root grins in appreciation and heads over, taking the time to muscle Shaw against the corridor wall on her way to the bathroom, sliding her hands down Shaw’s arms and grabbing her wrists firmly before leaning down to bite at her full lower lip.

The smaller woman arches against her, groaning as she pushes onto Root’s thigh, eagerly accepting the sting of pain in her lip. She smells like the spicy deoderant she favours, clean and fresh and exciting. Root slides the bite into a deep kiss, licks Shaw’s mouth open, tasting the mint of toothpaste. It makes her squeeze Shaw’s wrists hard enough to cut off the blood. Shaw shudders against her and Root pulls back with half-lidded eyes and a smug grin, arousal coiling in her belly in a satisfying glow, her body thrumming. 

“I’m gonna hop in the shower, maybe go set something up on Netflix so we can ease in?” She can hear the husk of sex in her voice as she takes a step back, admiring Shaw’s ‘against the wall’ look, dark eyes and long hair curling damply against her white shirt, her lips soft and parted, the lower swollen from Root’s teeth digging in. It suits her, Root always thinks, Shaw’s the kind of person who looks good a little damaged, a little bruised. Or maybe it’s just how much she embraces it, leans into the pain and the marks. Root’s pussy throbs, heavy and eager. She wonders if she should jerk off in the shower, take the edge off.

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll find something hot,” Shaw agrees, practically preening under Root’s weighted gaze before straightening up and padding into the living room, barefeet scuffing softly on the hardwood floor once she leaves the corridor.

Taking a deep breath, Root leans a hand on the door frame and wonders just how filthy the night is gonna get, how prepared Zoe is for them to get kinky. She wants to fuck Shaw up, it’s burning in her veins already, wants to bruise her and hurt her... in a fun way, of course. Shaking the thoughts away for now, Root showers quickly and then walks naked to the bedroom, snorting when Shaw wolf-whistles at her from the living area. She pulls on a dark blue button up without putting a bra on, leaves her hair down after drying it, and forgoes panties under a shortish leather skirt. She smirks to herself as she does the wide silver zip up, imagining Shaw on her knees discovering the lack of underwear. Shaw has a bit of a thing for leather, it turns out. Root needs to buy some leather pants, she reckons Shaw would be super into riding off on her dick through the leather. Dry-cleaning might get pricey, but she thinks it would be worth it.

Leather day dreams aside, she joins Shaw on the couch, pulling her so Shaw ends up sprawled practically sideways with Root’s arm wrapped around her so she can touch Shaw gently through her jeans, just some idle groping. The denim of her pants is worn and soft under her fingertips, and Shaw makes little happy noises while Root strokes her, pushing gently into her hand.

The buzzer goes just as Root is easing her hand down under Shaw’s waistband, drawn in by Shaw’s breathy little whimpers, her laboured breathing. On the TV, the L Word plays, Shane fucking Shaw’s lookalike. She grins and buzzes Zoe in, urging Shaw upright on the couch after a quick, exploratory delve beneath Shaw’s panties. Yep, she’s soaked already, good, “go grab some wine, babe?”

Shaw makes a pouty face and then nods, leaning over to butt her face into Root’s for a moment, delicately brushing her fingertips against Root’s cheekbone so lightly she barely feels it, before getting up, Root grabs her hand quickly before she gets gone, “you good?” She can’t quite get a read on Shaw right now, and even though she’s clearly turned on, she does _not_ want a repeat of the Christmas debacle.

“Green,” Shaw winks, wrinkling her nose with a grin and wandering over to grab glasses. Root relaxes into the couch and Zoe opens the door just as Shaw starts pouring the red, “hey, Zo. Come on in, the water’s fine,” she proffers a glass to Zoe, who grabs it before even taking her shoes off and downs half of it before handing it back to Shaw and taking off her coat and boots, discarding them haphazardly on the floor. For an excessively clean person, Zoe is also kind of a ridiculous nightmare of abandoned things. 

“Hi, team!” Zoe takes her wine again, starts towards the living room, then turns around, retraces her steps and picks up the bottle. She fills her glass back up as far as possible and then takes that and the bottle over to the sofa, putting them down on the table. She gives Root a frank up-and-down look before turning her gaze to the television, “ooh, who’s Shane fucking? I’m only in the first season!” She’s talking a little more loudly than maybe is strictly necessary, and Root smiles at her reassuringly, trying to settle her obvious nerves.

“Spoilers!” Shaw grunts as she heads back into the living area, handing Root a glass containing a regular amount of wine and then plopping down on the sofa and hooking a finger through Zoe’s belt loop, tugging gently until Zoe obediently sits down between Root and Shaw, although she’s clearly a little tense.

Shaw immediately flings her leg over Zoe’s lap, almost decimating her wine, and Zoe raises an eyebrow, “so all this time to get you to cozy with me I just had to have put sex on the table?”

That surprises a laugh out of Root, and she slides her hand up Shaw’s pant leg, wrapping her fingers around Shaw’s warm ankle, absently pressing into the groove behind the bone.

Shaw shrugs, “yeah, pretty much. I’m trying to seduce you. Is it working?” She sounds quite pleased with herself, all things considered.

“I came here _for sex,_ Shaw, I’m not sure you need to seduce me...” Zoe relaxes between them though, and Root pinches Shaw’s calf in appreciation, taking a mouthful of wine, it’s good, rich and deep flavoured and she makes a little noise of approval that drags Shaw’s eyes to her mouth.

“What episode are you on, Zo?” She smirks as she nods at the screen.

“Uh, they just opened that exhibit at the art gallery, the one everyone got mad about.” Zoe wriggles a little, like she’s not totally sure what to do with herself and Root takes a mouthful of wine before releasing Shaw’s foot and putting her arm across the back of the couch, making space for Zoe to tuck into her armpit a bit, which she does after a slight hesitation. Root grins behind her wine glass and starts fiddling with Zoe’s hair while Shaw digs her toes into Root’s hip playfully.

“Ah, okay, the end of the first season I think,” she balances her glass carefully on the arm of the couch and flicks through the Netflix guide until she finds the next episode, which also happens to be the season finale, conveniently. A good sign, she thinks.

She slides her hand into Zoe’s long hair, scratching her scalp gently and feeling Zoe relax against her slowly.

Shaw gets up to refill everyone’s wine after a while, but Root leans over to put her glass on the floor and tugs Zoe gently down so she’s lying against Root, under her arm, and Root can trace her hand over her chest.

She doesn’t look down at her, Zoe melts into the touches, and after a minute settles even more sideways, then Shaw leans down and maneuvers Zoe’s legs onto her lap so Zoe is stretched out between them, lying against Root with Shaw tucked under her knees.

Root looks across and catches Shaw’s eye, although Zoe determinedly looks nowhere except at the television screen, so clearly hyper-aware of their movements it makes Root smile a little. Shaw smirks at her and starts trailing her fingers up and down Zoe’s inner calf. Root can imagine what that feels like for Zoe, the hyper-sensitivity of someone new touching you, when you know it’s a precursor to more. She licks her lips.

Eventually, the credits start rolling, and Root pauses the show and shifts, leaning over to look down at Zoe, who turns a little to look up at her, looking nervous but excited. Root slides her hand into Zoe’s hair before tugging her up for a kiss. She comes easily, leaning up for Root’s mouth with a sharp inhale.

To the side, she can feel Shaw shifting, knows that Shaw is probably moving so she can touch Zoe, neither of them needing to recommunicate the fact that the focus is going to be on Zoe, at least for this first little while. They both wanna make it good for her.

Zoe’s lips are soft and welcoming, faintly strawberry flavoured. Root thinks she feels a faint tremble before she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, laving across it confidently with her tongue and making Zoe squeak, softening under Root’s touch.

She cradles her head, hand deep in Zoe’s wild hair, kisses her gently but determinedly, pushing her mouth fully open and teasing her lower lip with her tongue until Zoe shudders, arches, and finally really pushes into the kiss, meeting Root properly in it, the feel of her tongue sending electric tingles skittering down Root’s limbs.

Their mouths slide together, Root nips experimentally at her lip and soothes the sting with a lick when Zoe flinches.

Zoe shifts for better access, half-sitting up, her stomach muscles tight and hard under Root’s hand and Root can feel Shaw pressing up against her, presumably running her hands across whatever she can reach.

After a few long moments, Root breaks the kiss, feeling smug and horny in about equal amounts. Making out is the best. She moves her hand so she can slide her thumb over Zoe’s plump lower lip, admiring the pink flush in her cheeks and the glint in her eyes.  
  
Zoe’s breathing is a little heavy and her pupils are dilated, she blinks slowly, like her eyelids are heavy, “why did you stop?” it’s husky and breathy, and makes Root inhale, the tone sparking her arousal into full-blown lust.  

“I wanna watch you make out with Shaw again,” She murmurs, squirming sideways until she’s leaning right against the arm of the couch, Zoe still sprawled half on top of her, loose-limbed and pliable, “Shaw, come here.”

Shaw sits back on her haunches and the look on her face makes Root’s stomach clench in anticipation. Shaw wriggles forwards and crawls up Zoe’s body until she’s lying on top of her, Zoe’s head pressed back against Root’s collarbone, her shoulders just brushing Root’s already sensitive nipples.

Zoe leans up to meet Shaw, their lips colliding aggressively and Root hums in approval, sliding her hand down Zoe’s arm and then onto Shaw’s shoulder, squeezing gently. She watches them kiss, letting arousal swim foggily through her until she sees Zoe’s hips shifting upwards, and then she pulls Shaw back hard by the hair, knotting it around her fingers and enjoying the responding yelp.

“Lover, take your shirt off,” she orders, letting go of Shaw’s hair with one last, vicious tug, but not taking her eyes off Zoe’s face, which is soft and flushed with arousal.  
  
Shaw sits back without a second of hesitation—god, she’s so fucking obedient it makes Root clench—and hauls her shirt over her head, arching her back and looking at Zoe and Root with huge, dark eyes. She’s so beautiful, the low light catching on the soft curve of her cheek, the shadow of her eyelashes. As Root watches, she sucks on the reddened flesh of her bottom lip where Root bruised it earlier. Root makes a little, throaty noise at the sight of her and Zoe leans up.

She reaches out, as though she’s gonna touch Shaw, and pauses, her hand fluttering in the air like she’s not quite sure what the rules are. 

Root wriggles a little, sliding her hand under Zoe’s shirt and onto her warm stomach, scraping gently with her short, blunt nails, exploring the shape of her, “touch her. She feels so good for touching, I wanna watch you touch her.”  
  
Zoe inhales deeply, her nostrils flaring, and Root toys with her waistband gently, dipping her very finger tips just underneath, which seems to be enough encouragement. Zoe leans up and cups Shaw by the back of the neck, tugging her in for a kiss and flattening her free hand over Shaw’s collarbone. There seems to be a little battle for dominance going on between Zoe and Shaw, and it’s proving fun to watch. Shaw’s not really giving it straight up, acquiescing like she does for Root’s small touches. Maybe cause of who it is, or maybe she’s in a cheeky mood. Either way, it’s working fine for Root, and it seems for Zoe too.

Root’s inner muscles clench at the throaty noise of approval that bursts out of Shaw as Zoe bites at her swollen mouth, and she shuffles up behind Zoe so the other girl can lean back against her again, and Root can run her hands all over Zoe’s stomach and flanks. She’s softer than Shaw, still well-muscled, but in a different way, and Root enjoys cataloguing the shape of her, the dip and curve of her hipbones, the delicate swell of stomach. 

Zoe arches into her hands, and Root works up slowly under her tshirt until she has two handfuls of Zoe’s large, bra-covered breasts. She palms them gently and presses her chest against Zoe’s firm back, lifting her leg and wiggling until she can slide it between Zoe and the couch back, biting her lip as she scoots close enough to grind against Zoe’s ass a little. She’s soaked already, and with her lack of underwear it’s probably streaking over Zoe’s jeans. Root likes the idea of getting come all over her, giving her something to look at the next day when she sorts out her laundry, and she hums in approval, thrusting gently.

She releases one of Zoe’s breasts in favour of reaching around Shaw and unclipping her bra with easy competency, Zoe makes a little sound in her throat when Shaw’s bra slips under her hand, and Root helps her yank it out the way until she can guide Zoe’s palm to Shaw’s nipple.

Shaw moans, the sound as deliciously familiar to Root as the pained squeak that jumps out of her when Root leaves Zoe to explore Shaw’s breasts and digs her nails hard into Shaw’s flank instead, feeling her flinch and then press into the small violence.

The room is too quiet, just elevated breathing and little breathy noises, and it’s with some reluctance Root pulls back and leans over the back of the couch to grab her phone. Zoe breaks the kiss to look around, to see where Root has gone, and Root unbuttons her shirt with one hand while she clicks the music on with the other. ‘Explosions’ kicks in and Root licks her lips when Zoe meets her eyes, looking dishevelled and aroused, no sign of her earlier nerves. Root pulls her shirt clear of her breasts and Zoe’s eyes drop down and a look of sheer want washes over her face. It is _very_ pleasing, especially when Root remembers that these are only the third boobs Zoe has ever seen in a sexual context. 

Grinning, Root sits up again and tugs at Zoe’s shirt hem, waiting until Zoe lifts her arms up and then pulling the floaty material  over her head, pressing forwards so her own naked breasts squish against Zoe’s warm back, wriggling a little and sighing in appreciation before lifting Zoe’s loose hair out of the way so she can kiss and suck on her neck. Zoe arches into her mouth, and Shaw shuffles forward, watching them with scalding eyes before leaning in to kiss the other side of Zoe’s neck. 

Zoe tips her head back and moans throatily, and Root finally slides her hand up under Zoe’s bra, cups her gently and feels her nipple tighten against her palm, “fuck,” Zoe murmurs, her hips rocking inadvertently, and Shaw hums in agreement, Root feels Zoe’s bra being tugged up and out of the way, she’s not sure who moved it but she takes advantage of the new ease of access, pinching Zoe’s nipples gently, then a little harder, shocking a breathy squeak and a half-hearted glare out of her. Easy on the nipple, Root files the information away for the evening..

They trade off making out, Shaw finding Zoe’s mouth, then Root’s, then Zoe half-turning between them to kiss Root, all of them shifting and pressing into each other until Root can’t stand the burn of arousal any more, can’t take it slow and gentle and sit here so fucking passively.

She worms her hand downward, cups Zoe through her jeans and feels the _heat_ of her, groans into Shaw’s mouth and rubs against Zoe, pushing her hips against Zoe’s ass slowly and breaking away from Shaw’s lips to murmur, “you know about safe words, Zo?”

As soon as Root releases her, Shaw leans down and starts pressing eager, sloppy kisses down Zoe’s chest, sliding her hand over Root’s hip to tug her closer, but Root’s as close as she can be already and Shaw’s fingers dig into the curve of her ass, sending a hot spark of pain-pleasure through her before Shaw relaxes her grip.

Zoe shivers and brings her hand up to wind into Shaw’s hair, her knuckles curling into the thick, dark strands. Root should tie Shaw up by her hair sometime.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, something to say if I like, wanna stop, or freak out?” Zoe inhales sharply and leans her head back as Shaw nips down the soft curve of her breast.

“Pretty much. Shaw has three of them, okay, and I’m gonna give the same ones to you, but you need to agree to listen for and respect Shaw’s as well, okay?” Root’s voice is husky and she clears her throat quickly.

Shaw smirks up at her and then wraps her lips around Zoe’s nipple, making her tense and groan under her breath. “Okay,” she exhales, her eyes fluttering closed, and Root keeps rubbing her fingertips against the seam of her pants while she speaks.

“If I ask what colour you are, that means I’m checking in with you. We use traffic lights, green for ‘good’, ‘go’, yellow for ‘not sure’, ‘slow down’, or ‘less’ and red for ‘stop’. Anyone says ‘red’ at any time, everyone stops whatever they’re doing, and we’ll regroup, talk about it, figure it out. Got it? 

“Y...yeah,” Zoe whimpers as Shaw licks her way across her chest to the other, neglected nipple and treats it to some attention, cupping the weight of her breast in her hand.

“What colour are you, Zoe?” Root stops touching her for a minute, wanting her concentration, and Zoe blinks her eyes open slowly, looking a little dazed.

“Very green. One hundred percent green,” she slides her hand over Root’s, presses on the back of it and cocks her hips forwards, Root snickers and leans over to kiss her in reward—for her correct answer not the cheeky hand pressing—she sucks on her bottom lip and presses rhythmically against her clit through her jeans.

She breaks the kiss after a long, drawn out moment of tangled tongues and hitching breathing to ask, “Shaw, what colour are you?” She wants to model the question for Zoe, and just make extra sure that everyone is on board and on the same page, and Shaw pulls up from Zoe’s breast where she’s leaving gleaming wet lines over slightly pinkened marks to roll her eyes dramatically. 

“Yes, I also, am very green. Can we fuck now?” The sass in her voice makes Root’s stomach clench in anticipation, she knows what Shaw wants, she’s pushing to make Root take charge, which she is happy to do.

Power coils through her, making her limbs tingle, and she raises an eyebrow at Shaw, holding her gaze until Shaw finally looks right and down, a delightful flush rising up her chest, “on your knees, Sameen,” Root hums it, not putting her dominant voice on, but pointing at the floor next to the couch with a determined hand and a raised eyebrow. 

Shaw visibly gulps, her lips parting and pupils expanding as she obediently slips onto the floor, kneeling facing the couch and looking up at Root and Zoe. 

Zoe licks her lips, looks up at Root, “are things gonna get rough with you guys?” She asks, not sounding put-off, more inquisitive, and Root slides her hand down Zoe’s thigh and up again, dragging her nails lightly against the denim.

 “Do you mind if they do?”

Zoe inhales deeply, looks down at Shaw who gives her a little, wrinkled-nose grin, and Zoe shakes her head, “no, I trust you.”

“You can change your mind, any time, ‘yellow’ if you’re not feeling okay, or you wanna check in. And if you’re worried about Shaw just ask her what colour she is,” Root makes sure Zoe knows that there’s a way out, waits until Zoe nods her understanding and then leans down to kiss her.   

Shaw waits patiently on the floor, only shifting a little while Root kisses Zoe until she’s breathless and her hips are pushing demandingly against Root’s fingers, and then she pulls back and maintains eyecontact while she painstakingly unbuttons Zoe’s jeans, unzips them, and starts to push them down her hips. Zoe gets the idea and lifts up, helping Root shove them down until she can kick them off.

Then Root spins them so she’s pressed against the couch back and Zoe’s between her spread legs, facing front, facing Shaw who’s on her knees with her hands flat on her thighs and her naked chest heaving, eyes locked on Zoe’s panties. Root wonders how wet she is, if she’s soaked the fabric. 

She runs a hand down Zoe’s long, smooth leg and hooks her fingers under her knee, “lift for me,” she murmurs into her neck, biting down gently, and Zoe obligingly lets her sling first one leg, then the other, over Root’s knees, so she’s cradled between Root’s hips with her weight shifted back against Root.

Shaw watches them with undisguised heat in her eyes, and Root beckons her in, pressing kisses to Zoe’s neck and returning her fingers to rub against her clit through her panties, getting rewarded with a shuddering gasp for breath. It’s hot and soft and damp under her fingertips, the silky fabric bunching and moving with her, Root reaches down, outlining her entrance, and then reaches out for Shaw when she’s close enough.

Root winds her hand into Shaw’s hair, pulling her forwards so she’s pressing up against Zoe’s panty-clad pussy. Zoe makes a little noise in the back of her throat and lifts her hips towards Shaw’s mouth, and Root grins happily, tugging on Shaw’s hair and slipping her other hand up to pinch at Zoe’s nipples, reminding herself not to be too rough.

She indulges her desire to hurt by winding her hand tighter into Shaw’s hair and shivers in excitement at the pained groan that bursts out of her, muffled between Zoe’s legs. Zoe’s skin is hot against her front, a tiny bit sweaty, just enough that Root’s nipples slide easily as she arches her back.

Zoe wriggles and gasps against her, Root knows Shaw will be pushing at the fabric of her panties with her tongue, sucking at the soft flesh underneath, soaking the material and teasing Zoe into mindlessness. “Shaw’s good with her mouth, isn’t she? She gets a lot of practise,” Root smirks, Shaw blinks slowly, like she’s nodding in agreement, and Root tugs on her hair affectionately.

Little moans burst out of Zoe on every exhale, she’s rocking her whole body forward, one hand is digging into the couch cushion and the other is hooked over Shaw’s shoulder, hard, Root can see her fingers flexing. Zoe’s head is resting on Root’s collarbone, and Root has an amazing view of her breasts and stomach, pushing up against Shaw’s lips. Lust burns through her veins, but she forces it down, wanting to take some time and go slow with Zoe, at least at first. 

Shaw has her eyes open and firmly fixed on the two of them, and Root smirks at the sight of her, on her knees and obeying every little yank from Root’s hand.

Zoe’s breath is coming faster, and Root thinks from the sounds she’s making, the way she’s moving, that she could probably come in Shaw’s mouth like this, without even taking her panties off. But she wants to see, wants to watch Shaw pushing into her, wants Shaw to fuck Zoe while Root grinds against her ass, and she doesn’t know how many Zoe’s good for.

She’s dripping wet, probably leaving a wet spot on the couch, her short skirt rucked up around her hips and her pussy pressed up against Zoe’s french-cut panties. She thinks Zoe hasn’t noticed she’s not wearing any underwear yet, but as she lets go of Shaw’s hair and hooks Zoe’s panties with both hands, starting to push them down and letting Shaw take over when she realises what’s going on, Zoe wriggles back a little and gasps as her skin makes contact with Root’s naked groin. It must feel hot like a brand against her, Root’s pretty worked up.

She freezes for a second, and then pushes back experimentally, so Root rewards her by letting a little moan escape, tilting her hips for better contact. Zoe has to rearrange to let Shaw get her panties off, and Root sets her hands on Zoe’s hips and driving against her for a few, heady strokes. 

Time to even up the outfit arrangements, she decides, “Shaw, get naked,” this one is a command and she watches it hit, watches Shaw stiffen and make the face that Root knows means she just soaked her panties. At the thought, Root, licks her lips and reluctantly lets go of Zoe for a moment to finally worm out of her own shirt, leaving her naked except for her tiny excuse for a skirt, pulled up over her hips. She throws the unwanted button-up behind the sofa somewhere, watching with eager eyes as Shaw stands up to obey her command.

She does it slowly, making a show out of unbuttoning her tight pants and sliding them down her muscular legs, panties and all in one smooth move. Shaw stands and lets them look at her, she looks like an Olympian sometimes, Root thinks, all lean and sculpted and golden. She drinks her lover in until Zoe actually hooks her foot behind Shaw’s knee and pulls her forward, meaning clear. 

“Shoulda guessed you’d be a pushy bottom,” Root hums, running her nails lightly over Zoe’s flat stomach and eliciting a shiver before moving downwards and cupping her hot, sopping pussy, inspecting the soft furrows gently with her fingertips, “hi.”

 “Uh, hi...” Zoe breathes out, rolling her hips, and Shaw’s eyes lock on where Root is touching Zoe, trailing her fingers through the slick folds and exploring painfully slowly, much to Zoe’s clear impatience as she wriggles, trying to get more contact.

“So, I was thinking Shaw could put a couple of fingers in your ass and tongue fuck you while I touch you,” Root demonstrates by finding Zoe’s clit with unerring fingers, rubbing little circles against the hood covering the tender bud, “thoughts?”

“Green thoughts,” Zoe hums, reaching up over her head and cupping the back of Root’s neck, her palm is pleasantly sweaty, it slides against Root’s skin, “fuck that feels very excellent, I think I’m probably gonna come really fast though, just fyi.” 

“She’s never happy with one anyway. Overachievers,” Shaw quips, dropping to her knees and leaning over to press a kiss to the inside of Zoe’s thigh, making her grunt softly and try to squirm closer.

“Lube and gloves behind you, Shaw,” Root doesn’t stop sliding her fingers over Zoe’s wet centre, moving down a little and dipping inside with just the tips of her fingers, groaning as Zoe’s hot flesh welcomes her. Zoe makes a little choked noise and clenches her fingers on Root’s neck.

Shaw bites down on Zoe’s thigh briefly and then licks over the sting, inhaling deeply and clearly beyond ready to shove her face in Zoe’s pussy, and Root grins, reaching out with her free hand and tugging Shaw’s hair to get her to back off and get the stuff. 

Shaw makes quick work of sliding a glove on but doesn’t lube up yet, leaning back down and licking over Root’s fingers. The sensation bolts through Root’s body, making her hips buck against Zoe’s ass and she moans inadvertently. Shaw makes a satisfied noise and moves down a little, and Zoe’s head thumps back onto Root’s collar bone as a surprised sounding, “ohwell _fuck_ ,” springs out of her.

Root can hear the wet noises of Shaw’s tongue over the music, and she reaches down a little, wanting to feel Shaw’s mouth against Zoe, who shivers and gasps under their ministrations, tensing and making delightful little needy sounds as Shaw starts pushing into her in earnest. 

The visual is pretty fucking fantastic, Zoe splayed out with her legs spread and hooked over Root’s knees, Shaw with her face buried in Zoe’s pussy, and the feeling of Zoe’s tender, swollen clit under her fingertips as Root rubs it very slowly definitely doesn’t hurt.

Zoe’s muscles are clenching as she pushes into the sensations, and Root sees Shaw reach back and grab the lube, her hands disappearing from sight and then Zoe tenses fully, yanking on Root’s hair harder than she’d let Shaw get away with unless she’d given her permission. 

The pain spirals through her and settles in her groin, and she thinks she could probably come like _this,_ pressed against Zoe’s back and grinding into her watching Shaw fucking her, but Shaw would never let her hear the end of it, so she bites down on Zoe’s shoulder and pulls back a little, easing off so the pressure is less direct, speeding up her fingers on Zoe’s clit, feeling the soft skin shift and pulse under her sensitive fingertips.

Shaw clearly has pushed inside Zoe now, Root can tell by the way she’s moaning loudly on every breath, working her hand into Shaw’s hair and pulling her closer. Under her fingertips, Root can feel Zoe’s clit twitching and then she yelps and spasms, almost sliding off the sofa as she curls over a little, her short nails digging into Root’s scalp viciously as she comes. Fuck, it feels good.

Shaw doesn’t back off, she slows a little, and the knowledge that she’ll keep eating Zoe until Root tells her to stop makes Root clench in sympathy and desire, rubbing Zoe through her orgasm gently.

“One more for us, Zo,” she murmurs, backing off her clit as Zoe melts backwards, gasping for air. Shaw slows still further, looking up at Root for instruction and Root nods, so Shaw closes her eyes and moves her mouth up, covering Zoe’s clit. “Good girl, Sameen. Get your fingers in her pussy,” Root strokes her hands up Zoe’s flanks, soothing her, then cups her breasts gently and Zoe moans agreeably, relaxing into Shaw’s mouth again.

It doesn’t take long before Zoe’s tensing and groaning and grinding into Shaw’s face again, finally yelling her second orgasm out into the side of Root’s neck, squirming back from the stimulation.

Root pets her gently, and then pushes Shaw away with gentle fingers on her forehead. Shaw sits back on her heels, swiping her ungloved hand over her mouth and breathing heavily, cheeks pink and hot looking, making Root want to grab them.

But there’s better things happening, Root looks down and _watches_ Shaw pull slowly out of Zoe’s ass, absorbing the shudder and moan it wrings out of the limp body on top of her.

Zoe licks her lips, her eyes still closed, and Shaw pulls off her black glove and turns it inside out before discarding it on the table, glancing at Root like ‘what now’, with desire staining her face. 

Root kind of needs to come. Like, immediately, if not five minutes ago.

“Shift over, Zo,” she murmurs, urging Zoe move to one side and wriggling forwards as soon as she has space, leaning to grab Shaw’s hair and pull her up for a kiss to lick the taste of Zoe out of her eager mouth before lying back without releasing her handhold, and dragging Shaw’s face to her pussy.

She sighs in relief as Shaw makes contact, soothing her insistently throbbing clit with a soft, flat tongue, easing in, but Root doesn’t want gentle, and she tightens her hand in Shaw’s hair and lifts her hips, fucks into her face hard enough that Shaw struggles to breathe, gasping loudly for air around the wet slide of her tongue and lips being dragged over Root’s clit. 

Zoe presses up against her side, and Root takes a second to rearrange, tucking an arm around her, “fuck, suck my nipples,” she exhales, arching up desperately for Zoe’s mouth.

Zoe gives her a look, and for half a second Root thinks she’s gonna buck against the order, tries to remind herself that she’s not really topping her, but then Zoe leans down and a hot mouth is suddenly wrapped around Root’s hyper sensitive nipple and her eyes slam shut while she gets lost in the feeling of two mouths working her over. 

It doesn’t take long, barely seconds after Zoe switches breasts, Shaw scrapes her teeth across Root’s clit and she comes hard, fast, and intense, holding Shaw’s mouth against her as she cries out her orgasm, grinding slowly until the last waves have finished shaking her, and she flops back on the sofa, breathless and sated, heavy with pleasure.

Zoe pulls back, laying her head on Root’s shoulder, and looking down at Shaw who leans against Root’s thigh, one arm hooked over her leg, and a look of eagerness so intense it’s almost desperation on her face. Root realises that Zoe has had her hand hooked over Shaw’s shoulder, she’s left little nail crescents in the solid slope of Shaw’s trapezius.

Humming happily as the warm satisfaction of a good orgasm swirls through her, Root stretches a little, shifting lazily on the couch. She loves this couch, material selected for maximum comfort when naked, not sticky like leather, but also easy to clean. It’s a great couch, “so, Zo, I was thinking we could tie Shaw to the bed and I could teach you a few tricks, does that work for you?” she purrs, hearing the gratification staining her own voice. 

Zoe smooths her thumb down Shaw’s shoulder, over the marks she left. She smiles when Shaw leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed. Shaw nipples are pebble-tight, Root can see, and she licks her lips, thinking about biting down on them.

“Sounds good, I think I’ve regained the use of my legs,” Zoe murmurs, contentment painting her words. 

On the floor, Shaw nods eagerly, making mock prayer hands at the ceiling, and Root doesn’t bother hiding her snort, “having a guest over’s made you awfully cheeky,” she tugs Shaw’s hair gently, not trying to hurt her this time, and points at the bedroom, “pee first and then get rope and a blindfold.”

Shaw’s whole face glazes over briefly, which is delightful, and Zoe grins, reaching up to play with Root’s hair over her own shoulder, still leaning full body against her, “this is her being cheeky?”

Root grins as Shaw gets up, shooting them one last, heated look before obediently padding towards the bedroom. There’s pink marks on her butt from where she’s been sitting on her own heels, “yep, she’s showing off. That’s what you get for having friends visit,” she makes sure her tone is playful and Zoe leans over to pick up her wine, taking a mouthful and humming in pleasure, clearly much more relaxed than she was at the start of the evening when she was panic drinking. 

“Well, if you need to deal with that, don’t let me stop you,” she sounds like she means it as she puts her glass down on the edge of the table, “I’m gonna use the washroom?”

 It doesn’t escape Root’s notice that it’s a question, and she nods, tamping down on the flare of dominant energy that surges in her at Zoe’s uncertain tone, “I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” she slides off the couch and pads towards the room in question, relishing the change from wood to carpet under her feet.

Shaw’s already splayed out, hands above her head but not wrapped around the headboard. Her wrists are crossed on the pillow instead. There’s a coil of nylon rope next to her, she’s picked the vicious, camping kind that will leave stria around her wrists, scraping her bloody, and a shiver of lust makes Root’s nostrils flare. The blindfold is lying in wait on the bedside table, black silk, nothing special. 

Root sometimes likes letting Shaw pick her own flavour out of what Root’s cooking up; it adds a level of participation and also lets Root know where Shaw’s mind is. The nylon rope means she wants it to hurt. Root can understand that. Root can get behind that.

She takes her skirt off, finally, and sits down on the edge of the bed, trails her hand up Shaw’s leg slowly, indulging in her heated skin and enjoying the little whimper Shaw lets escape, the uncontrolled twitch of her fingers on the white cotton under her head, “hey, baby. How’re you doing?”  
  
“Amazing,” Shaw beams at her, looking eager and delighted, “you guys are gonna fuck me up, I can tell.”  
  
Root laughs softly, warm affection swelling in her chest, and she grabs the rope, moving up and looping it around the headboard bar. She pulls one end through to use that instead of cutting it down for size,  “don’t get too pushy, Shaw, or you’ll pay for it,” Shaw just smirks and holds her wrists up for the bindings.

Root makes quick but efficient movements around Shaw’s wrists, circling three times and then looping under the rope, next to Shaw’s skin so the knots won’t be able to slide any tighter. Shaw can tug as hard as she likes and she’ll bruise and scrape the fuck out of herself but she won’t be able to accidentally cut off her blood supply. Root looks forward to kissing the damage better later, Shaw makes such cute little noises when Root licks at her injuries.  
  
Sitting back, Root absently pinches Shaw’s gorgeous brown nipples with her left hand while she inspects the bonds, tugging them to make sure they’re secure and then just for fun. After a few moments, a soft noise behind her makes her turn. Zoe’s leaning in the doorway, still naked, eyes flashing pure heat across them both.

“You guys are super fucking hot, and now I’m banging you. Life is good,” she observes as she prowls into the room, stepping onto the bed and settling down fluidly on Shaw’s other side. She glances at Root and then reaches out slowly for Shaw’s currently unattended nipple and Root nods before she takes it, giving the permission she’s asking for.

If anything, Root thinks Zoe pinches harder than she was, because Shaw takes a pained hiss of breath and arches against their hands. Zoe definitely did cut her nails, but she’s using what she has, Shaw’s skin losing colour where she has hold. Yum.

Root grins, rolls the tender nub between her fingers and leans down to lick over it, making Shaw tense and let out a little moan. It feels so good against her tongue, soft and delicate. It makes her wanna dig her teeth in hard enough to bruise. She makes a mental note to do a good biting session soon, spread-eagle Shaw and work up and down her body so the next day she’s ringed with marks showing how much Root likes to sink her teeth in. Maybe before they go somewhere Shaw will have to wear a bikini, she muses. But now is not the time.

Instead, she sits up properly, lets go of Shaw’s nipple and scrapes her hand down the toned abdomen waiting for her, leaving red lines blossoming in her wake, “you got anything particular you’d like to try, or should I just take you through the basics?” the muscles under her fingers ripple. Shaw has so much power tied up in such a small package, it’s pretty amazing to Root. The compact strength of her—she remembers the first time she went to the gym and watched Shaw lift, watched her muscles strain against the chains and pulleys. Christ. That was hot. Root might have a bit of a thing for Shaw’s arm veins. And by thing, she means boner.

Shaw gasps softly and flutters her eyes closed like they’re too heavy to keep open any longer, and Root remembers the blindfold. She reaches over and ties it on with competent hands, letting her her fingertips trail over Shaw’s eyebrows, the delicate bones of her nose, petting her face idly while Zoe answers, “whatever you want? I mean...” She lets go of Shaw’s nipple and copies Root scratching Shaw’s abdomen, making her tense and groan throatily, shoulders lifting off the bed, “so far everything is working out amazingly!” Root chuckles when she looks and sees Zoe has drawn a ‘Z’ like zorro, red welts marring the smooth expanse of brown tummy.

Pleased with the response, Root sits back and urges Shaw’s legs open by slapping her thighs sharply, leaving red splotches to fade rapidly as Shaw spreads as far as she can, tilting her pelvis up greedily. She’s gleaming with arousal, her clit just peeking out of her soft pink hood like it’s begging for attention. Root licks her lips at the sight.

Zoe makes a little noise, and, when Root glances at her, she’s blinking rapidly with her mouth soft and open. The look on her face makes Root remember Zoe’s only been with one girl before, and that was after a party and presumably she was a little drunk. Who knows if they even had the lights on? Still, she seems to be doing pretty well so far, and the expression on her face leads Root to believe she’s resisting the urge to lean in and explore further. But she doesn’t have to! She can investigate to her heart’s content.

Root smiles at Zoe as she runs her fingers between Shaw’s legs, gathering some slick and pulling it up around her clit, gliding her fingers over the delicate tissue, feeling how hard Shaw is, how ready, making her buck and gasp. Root hums in pleasure at the feeling of delicate skin shifting and twitching at her touch. Zoe watches intently as Root fondles Shaw idly, just kinda letting Zoe get used to the idea and see the general layout from this new and exciting angle.

Shaw wriggles under the light touches, clearly wanting more, she’s wet and swollen and probably desperate for a little penetration right about now, she’s moving her hips like she’s trying to trick Root into sliding inside.

“You wanna fuck her, Zoe?” She murmurs, without looking up, and Zoe swallows a little sound and wriggles closer as Shaw let’s out a gasp at the words.

“Yeah. Will you, uh, will you show me?” Root can hear the excitement threading through Zoe’s voice, and Shaw wriggles a little on the bed, like an eager puppy.

Root delights in the trust the two are showing her, she can’t deny she’s getting off on sharing Shaw like this and the fact Zoe doesn’t know what she’s doing and is leaning on Root for direction is really fucking hot, “voyeuristic tendencies?” Root teases, obligingly running her fingers lower and pushing two into Shaw with ease.

Shaw exhales harshly, lifting her hips right off the mattress and letting a little sound bubble out of her throat.  Root chuckles and presses on her hipbone with her free hand, forcing her back to the mattress with an unforgiving push, “you better relax, sweetie, you’re not getting off any time soon.”  
  
Shaw whimpers, turning her head sideways on the pillow and taking a huge breath, Root sees her consciously trying to relax her body and she strokes her fingertips gently on Shaw’s hipbone in reward.

The temporary recovery is ruined as Zoe tentatively reaches out to rub her fingers over Shaw’s clit, making her cry out softly at the new stimulation. She pulls tight on her wrist bonds, her arm muscles hard under the strain, and Root wants to wriggle up and bite them so she moves carefully, leaving her fingers inside Shaw pumping slowly in and out, letting Zoe see what she’s doing as best she can.

She digs her teeth into Shaw’s bicep, groans at the feeling of flesh compressing under her strength, prompting a shuddering cry as Shaw clenches helplessly on her fingers.

After a long moment, Root sits back, licking her lips and admiring the purple crescent she’s left behind her mouth, “oh, baby, you need to calm down or you’re gonna come all over us before you’re allowed and you’re gonna be in trouble,” there’s a slight singsong in her voice, and Shaw moans agreeably.

Zoe looks over at her and grins, sliding her hand down to touch Root where she’s still firmly pushing into Shaw, slick and wet and tight, “you’re hard to please,” Zoe murmurs, teasing at Shaw’s entrance above Root’s fingers, watching Shaw’s abdomen clench and tense, her pecs jumping and the tendons in her neck standing proud. 

“Shaw knows the rules,” Root smirks, wriggling back down the bed and pulling out slowly, lust pulsing a hot, demanding beat in her groin,  “here, why don’t you fuck her for a minute? She loves getting fucked, don’t you, sweetie?” 

Shaw nods in a sharp little jerk, and Zoe inhales as she slides her hand down and pushes in slowly. Root watches her face, sees her eyes flutter closed briefly and the way her tongue peeks out to wet her lower lip. It’s hot. Root is very, very glad she’s already had an orgasm this evening, the lust in her veins is making it hard to think straight, she feels tingly and eager. 

“Doesn’t she feel good, grabbing on your fingers?” Root runs damp fingertips down Shaw’s thigh, leans over to bite at her nipple, not super hard but enough to make Shaw tense and shudder out Root’s name, recognising the mouth on her it seems. 

“Yeah,” Zoe exhales, “it’s, uh.. Different. Than myself.” She swallows audibly.

So Zoe didn’t fuck Raven? Interesting. Root grins, moving her left hand up under Zoe’s and pushing her middle finger inside behind her, Shaw tenses and squeaks at the unexpected intrusion, Root fucking _loves_ it when she makes Shaw squeak, it lights a fucking fire in her.

Zoe has stilled her slow movements, but Root tries to coax her back into a rhythm by stroking down the back of Zoe’s fingers, trapped tight inside Shaw’s wet heat, it’s a whole new kind of erotic, the sensation of Zoe’s fingers slick with Shaw and inside with her. Root likes it, a lot, she decides. She’s never done this specific kind of double penetration before and shit, it’s exciting, Shaw’s hot and tight and clenching on her finger, and Zoe’s clearly finding the touch on the back of her own fingers to be intensely arousing, judging from the whispery little moan she lets out as Root strokes down her digits, compressed against her by Shaw’s inner muscles grabbing at them both.

But it seems like maybe Zoe needs a little reassurance, like she’s nervous to move, maybe worried about hurting Shaw, “it’s okay, she can take way more than this,” like a whole fist, for example, Root doesn’t say, as she uses her middle finger and stretches Shaw down a little before adding her index finger. She curls them behind Zoe’s so they’re moving in and out of Shaw slowly, together, “put your thumb on her clit, and here,” she bends her fingers more, angling her wrist and forcing Zoe’s fingertips against Shaw’s front wall, trying to find her Gspot with Zoe’s fingers.

It’s incredibly easy to realise when Zoe hits it, because Shaw tenses and moans pornographically, making Root’s belly clench with want. God, she makes such good noises. It always seems like such a shame to gag her, but sometimes Shaw needs that to let go. Not today though, they haven’t really gone to any serious place restraints place yet. And, depending on how Zoe’s doing they might not at all in this threeway. Shaw seems very happy with the way things are unfolding so far, and Root’s pretty easy as long as she’s in charge.

Zoe bites her lip as she positions her hand so she can touch Shaw’s clit, a little awkward, and Root reaches over with her free hand to help her. She gets it, and rubs her thumb in an experimental circle, and Shaw’s hips jump, pushing their fingers deeper inside her, muscles fluttering tightly, “fuck,” Zoe says, almost conversationally.

Root smirks, leans over to bite at Zoe’s neck, “we are,” she repositions, moves over so she’s straddling Shaw’s shin and grinds down on it happily, the contact a blessed relief for her desperate pussy. As an added bonus she can now slip her free right hand between Zoe’s legs, making her jump and gasp as she strokes across her wetness, tracing around her entrance gently. 

“I wanna fuck you while we fuck Shaw together,” she says, and Zoe moans something like an affirmative, while Shaw writhes on the mattress, pushing her hips against their hands. Root slides her thumb into Zoe, not able to use her fingers because the angle is too sharp, but Zoe doesn’t seem to mind, mouthing something silent and cocking her hips for Root’s touch. Shaw’s leg underneath her flexes and Root can feel her trying to give a better angle, better pressure. She’s sweet like that. It feels so fucking good grinding down on her.

“Wait til you feel her come on our fingers,” Root pants into Zoe’s neck, since she seems to appreciate the verbal component, “there’s nothing like stringing someone out until they’re begging for release and then letting them go over, feeling their muscles slam down around your fingers.” At her words, she feels Shaw’s muscles clench dangerously, and she hides her smirk under Zoe’s ear. Shaw is also a fan of Root’s little descriptions, she’s often found it works fucking wonders on her while they’re fucking. She likes being talked about like a toy, like a possession, but only like this when she’s spread out and being taken. 

“Oh God, please, fuck, please... oh,” Shaw cries out as Root scissors her fingers against the gripping muscles, her whole body tense and quivering.

“Not yet, sweetie, wait for Zoe,” Root commands, and Zoe moans quietly, pushing back on her hand far enough to let Root get fingers on her clit, finally. She bites her own lip and traps Zoe’s clit between her fingers, rocking them against each other.

“I.. fuck, please. I can’t, Root, I can’t, fuck,” Shaw makes a helpless noise, fluttering hard, clearly on the verge of orgasm, and Zoe stops moving her hand, looking over at Root with flushed cheeks, rolling her hips slowly. 

“Should I stop?” She already has, but Root uses her hand to push Zoe back into motion, leaning in to swallow the noise she makes in a kiss.

Shaw cries out, arching, but Root doesn’t relent, fucking into her harder. Shaw’s held her orgasm off under much harder conditions than this, and Root doesn’t really think she’s going to come, but then suddenly she is, a rush of tight hotness where Zoe and Root are pressed inside her and she’s panting, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” even as she rocks through her orgasm, and Root isn’t quite mean enough to pull out too soon and ruin it, so she helps Zoe push Shaw through it, buzzing with vicious sexual energy that demands she dominate, punish Shaw for taking her orgasm without Root’s permission. She had _plans_ for that orgasm. Her own need recedes to manageable levels as she lifts up from Shaw’s leg, rapidly planning out a suitable punishment.

Much to Zoe’s clearly voiced disappointment, Root pulls out of them both when Shaw’s done coming, reaching up and sliding her Zoe-slick fingers into Shaw’s mouth for her to clean off before pushing the blindfold off onto the pillow and raising an eyebrow at her. Shaw is pink, her lip trembling with her breathing, and sweaty strands of hair stuck to her forehead where the blindfold was only moments ago. She looks fucking amazing, debauched and naughty. 

Root can imagine what she must look like right now, she can feel the set of her jaw and the hard energy she’s trying to channel.

Shaw is flushed and gasping, her eyes find Root’s and she nods, dropping her gaze. The look on her face send a frisson of excitement powering through Root to pool in her lower belly, making her clench in anticipation. It’s a look that says Shaw wants whatever Root’s planning on handing out, that she needs it, and Root almost forgets Zoe’s there as she leans down to beat Shaw up with her mouth, drawing her into a bruising, violent kiss that Shaw whimpers and arches into, opening submissively for Root and letting her plunder her mouth, suck on her tongue and bite her lip until it bleeds. 

A hand running down her spine reminds her, and she pulls back, breathing heavily, holding Shaw’s gaze until she drops it, and reaching up for the ropes to untie her with swift movements.

“Zoe?” She glances over her shoulder, grins at her reassuringly. Zoe looks a little flustered, probably wondering what’s going to happen next.

“Yeah?” She wriggles up the bed to lean on the headboard, watching Root untie Shaw with hot and eager eyes.

“I know you said you were good if I had to deal with Shaw,” she lets a teasing note into her voice, pleased when Zoe relaxes almost imperceptibly, “you still okay with that? She’s been bad but I can punish her tomorrow instead, if you’re not.”

“What did you have in mind?” Zoe leans over and runs her hand down Shaw’s sweaty, scratched stomach, “seems unfair to go too hard on her when we’re both so fucking sexy she couldn’t contain her orgasm?”

Root laughs out loud, she can’t help it, “oh, Zoe. I have seen Shaw sit on my dick for an hour and twelve minutes without coming. Five minutes with the two of us inside her is... embarrassing. She wasn’t even trying! She wants us to fuck her up. I was thinking since she stole her orgasm, I’d make her watch us taking care of each other. Hogtie her on the floor with some jobs to do while we have some fun. But if you’re not comfortable with  that I’m sure I can come up with something that works for all of us.” She pinches Shaw’s nipple roughly, making Shaw gasp and her eyelids flutter.

Zoe twitches an eyebrow, “some jobs to do?" 

Root drops the rope on the floor and licks her lips, sliding off the bed with a look at Shaw that means she knows to stay put regardless of the fact she’s been untied. Grabbing the sex box out from under the bed she rummages through until she finds what she wants, holding up a stainless steel buttplug and smirking as Shaw closes her legs instinctively, “well, later I was hoping we could get Shaw to fuck you with a strapon,” she grabs the slimmer vibrating feeldoe out of the box and eyes it thoughtfully, “so for now I wanna give her these to hold onto while she watches me fuck _you_ . Whaddya think?”  
  
Zoe looks at Shaw, then back at Root, then at Shaw again, looking hotly unsure of herself, and Shaw snorts and grins lazily, reaching out and running her hand down Zoe’s thigh, and letting her legs fall open again. Zoe relaxes at the touch, and Root winks at Shaw. She might be being a naughty sub, but she’s doing an amazing job keeping things comfortable between them all. 

“Yeah, okay. Green?” Zoe nods, covering Shaw’s hand on her thigh, “can I, uh, can I kiss her?” She directs the question at Root and Root smirks, heading for the bathroom.

“Sure, she doesn’t deserve it, but you can have whatever you want, knock yourself out,” she hears the shuffle of blankets and a soft inhale behind her as she uses the bathroom and then washes the toys she wants to use on Shaw with the cleaner that lives by the sink.

She’s buzzing, her nipples are hard and tight as she rubs her palm over them idly, inhaling deeply and smelling the scent of sex all over her. Zoe seems to be having a good time, and Root can’t fucking believe Shaw came all over them like that but she is super excited for a good punishment opportunity. Shaw’s usually so good Root doesn’t really get to fuck with her, torture her, sure, spank her for fun, but not really _punish_ her. But Shaw wants it. Root thinks maybe she’s feeling a little insecure, offbalance, and wants Root to dominate her, help her find her place in things and feel like she fits.  

Walking back into the bedroom she pauses in the doorway to admire the sight of Zoe straddling Shaw, grinding down onto her, holding her wrists down above her head. They’re face to face, but just short of kissing, their lips brushing together every now and again, Shaw trying to strain up for Zoe’s mouth but not being allowed to. Root can see how tightly Zoe is holding her wrists, her hands are white with the pressure she’s exerting.

Root grins, sauntering in, and picks up the rope from next to them, “having fun?”

Zoe looks up at her with a wicked expression, licks her lips, “yes, you want her back?”

“Mmm, in a minute. Carry on,” Root puts her toys carefully on the bedside table and takes a seat in the chair angled towards the bed, running her hand down her stomach and between her legs, shivering as her fingers make contact with her clit, “why don’t you bite her a little?” She suggests, breathlessly, and Zoe flicks her hair over her shoulder before leaning down to seal her mouth around Shaw’s collarbone. 

Shaw whines, arching, and Zoe’s arm muscles flex as she holds her down using her full body weight, circling her hips on her stomach and taking full advantage of Shaw’s sixpack. Root hums in pleasure, catching Shaw’s eyes until Shaw flutters them closed again, a little grin playing around her mouth.

Zoe’s grinding down with more purpose now, seeking as much friction as possible, rolling her hips at high speed, dragging her teeth over Shaw’s collarbone. It’s hot enough that Root slides her fingers into herself, briefly, before pulling back and rubbing over her clit in tight little circles, letting out a breathy gasp. Her need reasserts itself firmly, and she rubs with purpose, giving in to the fact she’s gonna get herself off over here. 

Zoe turns her head, “fuck, I’m really close,” and looks at Root with blown eyes and a needy expression.

Root nods, “yeah, fuck, come all over her, do it,” and Zoe and Shaw both gasp.

Shaw’s feet are scrabbling on the mattress, she’s trying to spread her legs under Zoe’s hips, but Zoe’s a little too high for her to get any contact, Root can see Shaw’s pussy, puffy and soaked and untouched.

Zoe ducks her head down so her forehead is pressed against Shaw’s collarbone and comes with a cry, slowing her hip movement as she idles through it, her fingers white where they’re clenched around Shaw’s wrists. 

Root spreads her legs and works herself faster, lust pulsing hot and bright and desperate through her as she watches Zoe come down. Shaw wriggles desperately under her and then opens her eyes and looks right at Root, the needy, strungout look on her face and the hot weight of her gaze enough to send Root spiralling over, letting out a soft gasp as her muscles contract and pleasure floods her system. 

She rubs herself through it, gentling her fingers around her clit, feeling herself pulse and twitch as her body settles into the calm that follows her orgasm, and she ‘mms’ with pleasure and wipes her fingers off on a tshirt she left over the arm of the chair for a situation just like this one.

On the bed Zoe, rolls sideways off Shaw, who leaves her hands above her head but flexes her fingers furiously to get the blood circulating again, eyes closed, and thighs squeezing together.

Root rouses herself because Shaw looks like she might be able to get herself off just like that if Root doesn’t explicitly put a stop to it, so she scrapes herself upright and pads over to run her hand down Shaw’s body, “alright, sweetie, that’s enough,” Shaw immediately stills, blinking her eyes open and biting her lip, swallowing visibly. “Off the bed, upright kneel,” Root points at the floor by her feet and Shaw slowly wriggles into a sitting position.

Zoe watches them, reaches her hand out to stroke down Shaw’s back briefly, and Shaw gives her a little smile over her shoulder, clearly wanting Zoe to feel good about the whole thing. It’s cute, and Root leans down to kiss her as a reward, using her hands to pull Shaw off the bed and maneuver her how she wants her at the same time.

“Wanna come watch?” She asks Zoe, who’s lying on her back still, one hand on her inner thigh, breathing rapidly.

“Uh,” she thinks for a moment, and then squirms over to the side of the bed closer to them, propping herself up on one hand, “okay.” 

Root grabs the lube and the steel plug from the bedside table, slicking Shaw up with her fingers rather than slicking the plug, she wants it to go in cold, because Shaw has been bad, after all and this is supposed to be a punishment. As she pushes it past the tight ring of muscle, Shaw shudders violently and leans back against her shoulder, gasping, eyes open and staring at the ceiling, she groans deep in her throat and shivers as Root gives the ring a little tug.

The plug is heavy and flared, with a narrow section for Shaw to clench on and a ring that stays clear of her body, perfect for restraints. Root presses a kiss to Shaw’s shoulder and goes to the bathroom to wash her hands and when she comes back, Zoe’s wormed onto her front and is stroking Shaw’s hair comfortingly. Shaw has her eyes closed, and is leaning into Zoe’s hand.

They’re such cute friends, Root thinks it is absolutely adorable watching Zoe first pinning Shaw down and riding herself off on her stomach and then soothing her while she’s being punished. 

Root grabs carabiners from the desk and hooks one through Shaw’s buttplug, tugging lightly again just for fun before picking the rope up and manhandling Shaw into a better position. She uses a knife to cut the rope into four even sections, hearing Shaw gasp in excitement as the switch blade saws through the fabric. Shaw likes blades a lot. 

Zoe pushes her hand into Shaw’s hair, tugs, “you guys use knives?” She sounds interested, and Root glances up at her and grins, then looks down to concentrate on making Shaw some manacles with loops she can pop a carabiner through.

“A little, they’re... pretty extreme, and neither of us are big on permanent marks,” she yanks Shaw’s now-rope-cuffed arms behind her back roughly and clips them together with a single carabiner, then does the same for her feet. One more carabiner through each of the links gets hooked to the one through the buttplug, and Shaw tips her head back and _whines_ as she wriggles to relieve the pressure, trying to find the best position, while Zoe continues to gentle her.

Shaw’s pushing into her hand, and Root doesn’t begrudge either of them the comfort, it’s actually kind of delightful—a little sub to sub support. She strokes down Shaw’s back gently, rubbing her until she relaxes, softens, adjusts to the bindings attached to the plug, to the fact she can’t move without yanking on it.   

Root takes a second to slide her arms around Shaw’s waist, hold her body and nibble on her neck because she wants the moment of connection and she thinks Shaw does too, from the way she relaxes into the hold as best she can.

“I”m gonna stick a vibrator in you now, Sameen. And you’re gonna hold onto both of these for me, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, Root, I’ll be good,” Shaw tips her head back onto Root’s shoulder, leaning her weight against her and watching Zoe watching them with a little smile on her face. 

“You better, cause I really wanna watch you fuck Zoe. Maybe fuck her at the same time, if she’s up for that?” Root looks up at Zoe, who blinks, bites the side of her lip and shrugs with a lazy half-smile.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” She smirks, “well, in some ways it would be. The boobs, for example.”

Root snickers, cupping Shaw’s breasts and holding the weight of them, rolling her nipples for a moment, Shaw inhales sharply and moans under her breath, “what nice boobs, though.”  
  
“I wasn’t exactly complaining,” Zoe seems relaxed again, rolling onto her back, “didn’t you say something about fucking me while Shaw watches?”

Root laughs, and strokes her hand over Shaw one last time before sliding her hand down and dipping her fingers between Shaw’s legs, absorbing the shudder of her body, “sure did. Just lemme stick a dick in my sub here and I’ll be right with you.”

Shaw makes a strangled noise at her words—whether the possessiveness, the dick, or the sub statement—pleasing Root immensely. She’s relaxed from her two orgasms, but desire is still buzzing through her, deep in her stomach and tingling in her limbs. She wants to push Shaw down on the carpet and sit on her face, grind a dick into her roughly and bite her lips til she bleeds.

The feeldoe goes in easy, Shaw’s open and ready, and it pops easily into place, standing up from her groin in a smooth curve. Root wraps her hands around it and drags them down slowly, Shaw shuddering and trying not to wriggle, breathing in deep, violent pants.

“Dick looks good on you, darlin’.” Her accent’s thickened up, and Zoe snickers.

 “Your Texas is showing,” she’s shifted closer, and she reaches down with one hand, wraps it around Root’s and moves with her, a fascinated expression on her face, “how does that feel?” She asks Shaw frankly.   
  
Shaw looks to Root for permission and Root nods, jacking her slowly, not turning the vibrating function on for now. 

“Uh, good, really good,” Shaw groans, cocking her hips and making a choking sound as it clearly pulls on the plug in her ass, “fuuuck.”

“You’re a poet, Shaw,” Zoe waggles the dick gently, almost like she’s rebuking Shaw, and Shaw groaaaaaans, throws her head back and gasps before responding breathlessly.

“It’s inside me, so when you touch it, it, uh, flows all the way down, into me, and fuck, I’m so, so sensitive right now, and there’s a fucking huge plug in my ass that gets jostled whenever I move _at all_ , and you guys look so fucking hot touching me... I don’t know, Zoe, fuck, it feels really good, it’s all really good,” she whines it, and Zoe trails her fingertips down under the dick, leaning right off the bed, clearly exploring where it’s slid inside Shaw, making her inhale sharply and arch, moan and relax deliberately to relieve the pressure on her buttplug.  
  
Root enjoys the moment immensely, and then clicks the vibrating function on, catching Shaw before she lurches forwards, holding her close while she settles into the new sensations. 

Watching with a fascinated look, “I think I’d like to try that,” Zoe says, cocking an eyebrow at Root, and Root presses a last kiss to Shaw’s over-heated neck before standing up.

“I don’t get fucked, but if you have enough energy after I’m done with you, and then you sit on our dicks, you’re welcome to try it out on Shaw.” She grins, “good enough?” Shaw moans approvingly.

“Fair,” Zoe nods, letting Shaw’s dick go and leaning down to press a kiss onto her mouth, taking her by surprise, making her flinch before she relaxes again. Zoe kisses the end of her nose, for some reason, and then sits up again, “so I shouldn’t, uh, put my fingers in you?”

“Not unless I ask you to, no,” Root was gonna bring that up, but Zoe’s one step ahead, it seems. Go sex positive humans.

“Cool,” Zoe rolls onto her back, “so what did you have in mind?”

Root feels the grin spread over her face slowly, wolfish and maybe a little dangerous, that’s one of her favourite questions, “well, I have a vast selection of toys, if you wanna try anything out? But I eat a spectacular pussy and I’m sure Shaw would simply love to watch me go down on you. Oh, and I know you’re super into anal—me too! I’d be more than willing to stick my tongue in your ass til you come all over my face if you feel like it.” She watches Shaw while she talks, watches her face glaze over and her breathing skip. 

“Mmm, sounds good to me,” Zoe wriggles back a little, “do you want me... should I hold onto the headboard?” She sounds a little unsure, and Root shakes her head.

“No, that’s okay, just don’t get rough with me unless you want me to get rough with you. I don’t like being yanked around.” She steps up onto the bed, stands over Zoe for a moment before sitting down, rubbing her hands down Zoe’s chest, tripping over her nipples and rolling her hips down against Zoe’s.

“And Shaw? You can swear, say our names, safeword, but nothing else, okay? Any other word you say is gonna be one more orgasm for Zo before I let you back up...Understand?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Shaw groans, and Root turns to look at her again, raising an eyebrow.

“So, we’re starting with four? Okay, babe, whatever you say.”  
  
Shaw blinks, her mouth dropping open, and Root snickers at the look on her face as Shaw deliberately closes her mouth again. 

Zoe giggles and grabs Root’s hips, “although four does seem like a _lot,_ this is fun! I think I’m way more of a sadist than initially anticipated. You having fun, Shaw?”

Shaw growls and doesn’t reply for a moment, and then begrudgingly says, “Fucking green,” the ‘you jerks’ is silent but clearly a part of the sentence and Root laughs, leaning down to kiss Zoe deeply, pushing her hair over her shoulder so Shaw has a good view.

Shaw makes a little noise on the floor and Zoe hums into the kiss, pushing up and licking into Root’s mouth.

They make out leisurely, both of them clearly enjoying Shaw’s inability to control her small shifts and the sounds that keep bursting out of her, until Root gets impatient and slides her hand down between them, pushing fingers into Zoe without hesitation and grinding against the back of her own hand.

Zoe’s hips stutter and lift, she inhales sharply and bites down on Root’s lip gently as she adjusts.

Shaw makes a gasping noise and Root pulls her mouth clear, hovering just above Zoe and stroking her fingertips down Zoe’s gspot making her shudder and then moan, long and drawn out. “Oh, oh, yeah. Do that some more...” 

She’s flaring out around Root’s fingers, so she pulls back and adds a third, then a fourth, very slowly, stealing the groan right out of Zoe’s mouth, sucking on her lip and then moving to bite at her neck, working her way down without stopping the movement of her hand.

“Jesus holy fuck, are you _fisting_ me?” Zoe gasps, writhing on the mattress.

On the ground, Shaw makes a choked noise, and Root looks down at her, winking, “naw, I’m not, but I reckon I probably could,” she breathes out, wedging her index and little fingers together and stretching her hand out, "if you're into that."

Zoe lets a quiet cry escape, lifting her hips up and moaning on her exhale, “fuck, maybe next time, jesus, don’t stop whatever is happening right now, just keep doing that forever, okay?” 

Shaw whines, and Root spares her what she’s sure is a wicked smile as she kisses her way down Zoe’s body, without stopping the movement of her fingers. She stops to pay suitable attention to her nipples before continuing down her stomach. She doesn’t really tease, because she wants Shaw to watch Zoe come in her mouth, wants to watch Shaw as she sucks on Zoe’s clit and see the little expressions fly over Shaw’s face.

A quick nip at her hipbone and she’s between Zoe’s legs, propping herself on her elbow and watching all four of her fingers slide in and out, even as Zoe lifts her hips desperately and frowns down at Root, “are you planning on watching all day?”

Root snickers and bites Zoe’s thigh over the faint mark Shaw left earlier, and then laps over her clit with a wide, soft tongue, making her swear and dig her hand into the duvet. 

Shaw’s staring at her with an open mouth and so much heat in her eyes Root’s a little surprised she’s not leaving scorch marks, and she smirks at her with her face buried in Zoe’s pussy.

Zoe shifts and moans, pushes into her mouth vigorously, demanding with her hips, and Root pushes her down into the mattress with her free hand before really eating her out in earnest.

Four fingers deep, a mouthful of clit, Shaw staring at her like she’s never seen anything so fucking sexy in her whole life, shifting and wriggling at her restraints and the toys wedged inside her, and Zoe cursing at the ceiling while she knots her hands into her own hair and flexes is a golden combination, and Root is dizzy with arousal as she pulls out every trick in the book and Zoe comes apart under her mouth. 

Root pushes her through the first one, gentles her through the second and finally lets her wriggle away from the third, Zoe strung out and gasping weakly, her eyes shut and a sheen of sweat all over her body, twitching in the wake of her orgasms.

She leans her head on Zoe’s thigh and waits for her to open her eyes again. 

“Roll over,” she says, when Zoe eventually peels her eyes open and makes dazed-looking eye contact, and Zoe’s face does a complicated facial expression of the ‘but maybe I have had _too_ many orgasms, I don’t know if I can’ variety. “Trust me, I got you,” Root sits up, stroking her leg gently and grabbing a dental dam out of the bedside draw, “I’ll be _very_ nice.”

Zoe breathes out slowly, and then smiles, a wide, broad smirk of pure pleasure, “Shaw did warn me I might die of orgasms,” she mumbles, rolling over with uncoordinated, lazy limbs, “say something lovely at my funeral about how excellent my ass is, or something,” she buries her face in her folded arms, pulling her legs up and sticking her ass in the air, “and don’t blame me if I fall over.”

Root opens the dam and is about to cover Zoe’s ass with it when she wriggles again, squirming sideways, “wait, can I?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, grabs a pillow and positions it on the side of the bed, and then refolds herself, facing Shaw now. She reaches out for her with one hand. Shaw squirms closer and Zoe wraps her fingers around the back of Shaw’s neck, making a satisfied noise, “okay, good. I know you’re punishing her, but... 

“It’s okay,” Root acquiesces easily, leaning over for a minute to rub her thumb over Shaw’s soft bottom lip. Shaw hums in pleasure, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, and Root smiles affectionately at her before shuffling around so she’s satisfactorily behind Zoe. “You good?” She holds the dam against the curve of Zoe’s ass with one hand, strokes over her now-protected asshole with her unoccupied thumb. 

“Mmm,” Zoe mumbles, shifting her ass up slightly in as clear a go-ahead as Root has ever seen, so she wriggles between Zoe’s spread, bent legs and leans down.

The dam is strawberry flavoured, sweet and slippery under her tongue as she licks at Zoe’s sensitive flesh. Not having to worry about hygiene, Root works her way up and down, pushing over Zoe’s pussy and back up again, long, slow strokes that soon have Zoe panting through her nose in hot little breaths.

She takes her time, dragging it out, rubbing her hand up and down Zoe’s flank before reaching around to stroke her clit when she starts wriggling desperately into Root’s mouth.

 “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” Zoe chants, her words muffled by the pillow against her face, and Shaw makes little urgent, encouraging noises in the back of her throat as Root hums into Zoe and speeds her hand up, feeling the beginnings of a cramp in her forearm and trying to hold it off.  
  
Zoe comes with a yell that starts as a low moan and ends up with her biting the pillow not to scream. She curls into herself, sitting down on her heels and collapsing sideways, narrowly avoiding falling off the bed. Sitting back, Root hopes she didn’t go too hard, hopes Zoe still wants to get fucked, as she curls up behind her and rests her head on Zoe’s back, waiting for her to rejoin the land of the living.

Eventually, she blinks her eyes open sleepily and rolls back to smile at Root through a haze of contentment, “holy fuck you _are_ good at that. You should write a book. I’d buy it. You could be a millionaire, a sex millionaire,” she’s clearly a bit loopy, and Root snickers as she sits up, dragging her fingers across Zoe's soaked pussy. She swipes her clean hand across her face before offering her fingers—covered in Zoe—to Shaw on the floor.  

Shaw sucks them in so eagerly Root actually almost, almost comes at the sensation of a hot tongue wrapping around her sensitive fingertips and the sight of Shaw so needy and eager to please, it’s a heady combination.

Zoe rests her leg against Root’s back as Shaw sucks on her fingers and Root leans against it a little, “so, Zoe, I really gotta come, you wanna watch Shaw eat me out again,” Shaw makes a desperate little noise and nods around Root’s digits, “or watch me jerk off, or you wanna try eating me out?” 

Zoe wriggles behind Root, sliding her legs either side of Root’s to frame her, “maybe I could help Shaw, like you helped her earlier?”

Root can’t tell if maybe Zoe is just exhausted from her work out, a little nervous about eating Root out, or if she wants to share with Shaw who’s all squirmy and needy, but it doesn’t matter because she gave Zoe the choice. She nods, leaning back against Zoe’s body and reaching for her hand then sliding it down over her clit, groaning unavoidably as their joined hands touch her sensitive flesh. After a moment she slides her fingers out of Shaw’s mouth and spreads her legs a little. 

Shaw watches her as she leans in, licks over their joined fingers, balancing uncomfortably with her hands and feet restrained in the way they are, any shift has gotta be sending waves of sensation through her bound body, but she’s working hard for it.

Root moans, leaving Zoe to touch her solo and bracing her hands on the edge of the bed, “mmm Shaw, you tryna make it up to me?” She inquires idly, lifting her hips a little into the dual touches.

A hot tongue pushing into her is the only response, and Root can’t swallow the noise that bursts out of her. Zoe moves her fingers in a tight little circle, breathing hotly into Root’s ear.

Root digs her fingers into the mattress and it isn't long before she comes apart around Shaw’s tongue, clenching and clenching, her muscles gripping down hard and Shaw mumbles something into her cunt as she pushes deeper, guiding Root through her orgasm before pulling back to lap gently over her entrance as Root trembles.

“Well then...” Zoe’s voice is thick with arousal again, as she lifts her fingers away from Root’s sensitive clit, resting her damp hand on Root’s hip, “what was that about everyone fucking me all at once?”

Root laughs quietly, pushing Shaw away and moving sideways, “forehead on the mattress, Shaw. Zoe, get down there and jerk her off for a bit, will ya, I need a second and she needs an orgasm, before we let her out, don’t you babe?”

Shaw, her face now pressed against the bed, pants, “yes, please. Please,” without moving. Root pets her hair gently as Zoe rolls clumsily off the bed.

Root watches as she shuffles in behind Shaw, trying not to jar her but failing unavoidably, making her whimper and tense. Root can see all the muscles in her back, her shoulders, her fingers are laced together to try and keep pressure off the carabiners, but any tiny shift pulls at them.

Zoe gentles her hands down Shaw’s flanks, trying to soothe her, and then wraps long fingers around Shaw’s vibrating dick, moving her hand experimentally and Shaw almost chokes on the strangled noise she makes into the edge of the mattress.

She has to be hurting by now, she’s been in an extremely uncomfortable kneel for like forty minutes, but she’s a trooper. Root can see her tiny aborted hip movements, seeking to push into Zoe’s hand but unable to, and Zoe licks her neck and slides her free hand to Shaw’s nipple, pinching sharply and digging her teeth in at the same time.

Shaw cries out sharply, her whole body clenching, and Zoe pulls back, “wow, I really like making her make those noises. Does that make me an actual sadist?” Her fingers tighten on Shaw’s nipple again, wringing an uncomfortable shudder out of her.

Root snickers lazily, trailing her hand down her own body and toying with the wetness smeared between her legs, not with any intention, just enjoying the buzz, “well, you’re also on your knees for me and I just fucked you stupid, so you’re clearly not opposed to bottoming while you inflict on poor Shaw here,” her tone is clearly teasing, “so I would recommend further experimentation before you draw any firm conclusions.”

Zoe smirks up at Root as she presses her mouth to Shaw’s neck again, cocking her wrist and pulling on the dick a little, making it pull downwards so the bulb inside will be harder against Shaw’s gspot. Root swallows a little noise. Shaw’s gspot gets so swollen when they fuck, all needy, like it’s just so fucking desperate to be touched, it’s pretty magical. She’s imagining it being overstimulated by the vibrations when Shaw pants, “please, please, can I come?”

And Root realises she never lifted the earlier restrictions and nods, “yeah, sugar, come for Zoe, come for me,” and Shaw shatters immediately, like she just needed that permission. Zoe stops rubbing her dick in favour of helping support her, while Shaw tries not to pull too hard against her own restraints even as she comes and comes in Zoe’s arms.

Root leaves them be for a few minutes, but when Shaw shows no signs of stopping, wracked by either the longest orgasm she’s ever had or multiple regular ones, she leans over, reaching around to click the vibrations off, and then jerks her chin at Zoe, getting her to move back a little so she can unclip the central carabiner and release Shaw’s wrists and ankles from the connection to her plug so she can ride it out in a little more comfort, “you can move now, baby, lie back, Zoe’s got you,” she tells her, softly.  
  
Shaw topples backwards when she’s released, leaning her full body weight against Zoe and staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes while her body clenches and clenches, and Zoe rubs hands soothingly down her chest, glancing between Root and Shaw with a heavy and fascinated expression.  

Shaw eventually loosens, tension slipping out of her muscles letting her practically melt into Zoe’s lap, and Root chuckles softly, she doesn’t think Shaw has blown her load yet, her refractory period is usually pretty good until she actually passes out when there’s no waking her, and soon enough Shaw peels her eyes open again and gives Root a languid grin that lights her whole face up, her body still limp and heavy. 

“Impressive,” Root murmurs, leaning down to cup her cheek, and Shaw butts into her hand, “Zoe, you wanna unclip her for me?” 

Zoe helps Shaw take her own weight a bit and then releases her wrists from each other and her ankles, so Shaw’s still wearing the manacles but they’re not attached to anything, and Root slides onto the floor, replacing Zoe behind Shaw and pulling the buttplug out slowly, but Shaw still shudders and groans as another orgasm rocks through her. 

Reaching around her, Root strokes a single finger down the quiescent now vibrator, “you need a break, love?” She murmurs into Shaw’s ear, and Shaw makes a noncommittal noise, fluttering her eyes shut. 

Root presses a kiss to her neck and then stands again, sprawling out on the bed, “c’mere, baby. You too, Zo,” she puts her arm up over her head and Shaw gets to her feet unsteadily, Zoe helping her, and then crawls onto the bed slowly, still full of dick. She curls up carefully, on her side under Root’s arm her hips pushed back to make space for the feeldoe between them and Zoe slips onto the bed behind her, pressing full body close to Shaw’s back and stroking down her flank. 

“You okay, Shaw?” Shaw grumbles something nonsensical into Root’s armpit and Zoe frowns, looking slightly worried as she curls her hand over Shaw’s hip, “what colour are you?” She tries again.

“Grellow,” Shaw mumbles, not opening her eyes, and Zoe laughs softly, looking up at Root.

“What does that mean?”

“It means she’s okay, but she needs a minute, right babe?” Shaw huffs out air and licks Root’s pectoral muscle, and for a few minutes they just lie together, Zoe stroking Shaw’s side and Root watching her hand moving.

After a bit, Shaw stirs, squirms and wriggles onto her back, blinking sleepily and stretching her hands up above her head, curling them around the headboard in a clear ‘good to go’ gesture.

Root admires the sight of the rope still wrapped around her wrists and ankles, but decides probably Shaw’s had enough of heavy restraints for the evening, and sits up to untie them, stroking her fingers down Shaw’s inner arms before she moves down to do her ankles, and drop the rope and clips onto the floor. 

“You want a vibrator in your pussy or your ass, or would you prefer it off,” Root looks up at Zoe, twitching her eyebrow, and Shaw shivers at the words.

Zoe thinks about it for a moment, petting Shaw’s stomach, “my pussy, I think? What do you think?” She glances at Root like she’s looking for guidance, and Root grins as she slides off the bed, her whole body washed with pleasure at the submissive question.

“Sounds good to me. I think Shaw would like that, too, wouldn’t you, darlin’?” Shaw wriggles in what looks a lot like lazy agreement—sometimes Root thinks she is part puppy—and Root pulls her sexbox out from under the bed.

“Wanna come pick a dick, Zoe? I don’t know what you can take,” she flicks the box open and Zoe leaves off her touching of Shaw’s body to squirm down the bed and prop herself on her elbows and look over.

“Wow, that is a _lot_ of dicks...” Zoe says frankly, leaning down to run her hand through the box, “you have anything, uh, soft but big? I don’t think I can handle two that firm,” she thumbs over her shoulder, and Root nods.

“Yeah, the feeldoes are pretty rigid, for obvious reasons. You want me to switch that out?” Root finds a posable dick that’s wide and very soft when you squeeze it and hands it to Zoe.

Zoe shakes her head, “naw, I think I’m good to give it a shot. And yeah, this feels good,” she has her forefinger and thumb wrapped around it and grins at Root, “you may have noticed I’m a bit of a clamper. But then, so, I noticed, is Shaw,” she sounds pretty pleased with herself, and Root snickers, grabbing a condom and handing it to Zoe before taking the dick back off her.

“I did notice. Here, put Shaw’s party dress on for her and I’ll wash this and set up,” she leans up and slides her hand into Zoe’s hair, pulling her in for a kiss, because kissing is nice and they’re all having a really good time, she thinks.

Zoe kisses her back, sucks on her lip in a way that makes Root’s stomach flip over in arousal and then she pulls back, humming happily and crawling up the bed. She straddles Shaw’s thighs, Root sees her tracing a hand down Shaw’s stomach before she goes to wash the dick and get set up in the bathroom.

She pulls her Rodeoh harness on in the bathroom, cause it’s hard to look cool stepping into a harness, dick waggling around—usually she makes Shaw help her, but she thinks Shaw is a bit too fried for that right now. She smirks at her own reflection, her hair a little tangled and sweaty, her lips swollen from kissing and eating pussy and she can’t keep the grin off her face. She looks well fucked, to say the least, and they’re not done yet, but the vicious, gripping arousal has faded into a pleasurable glow, her whole body contented, relaxed into the physical stimulation. 

She grabs another condom, a glove and lube out of the box on the way past, they’re all fluid sharing—which they had discussed previously—and she’s careful when she washes her toys, but Zoe is a guest and they’re about to fuck her stupid so she gets all star safety treatment.

Zoe’s still straddling Shaw, they’re actually holding hands, but Zoe’s using them for balance as she lowers herself onto Shaw’s feeldoe, Root realises as Zoe sinks down and lets out a gasp.

“Couldn’t even wait for me to turn it on?” Root inquires, grinning as she clambers onto the bed and shifts up behind Zoe, reaching between her legs and urging her up a little ‘til she can reach the button. Shaw and Zoe let out matching deep and throaty groans when she finds it and clicks the vibration on, Zoe shuddering forwards and propping her hands on Shaw’s chest. Shaw gasps as Zoe settles down, her breathing rapid and heavy, hands clenching in the blankets. 

“Mmm,” Root hums, cozying up behind Zoe and pulling her glove on, “ready, Zo?”

Zoe shuffles a little, leaning forwards and Shaw lifts her hands and then asks, “can I hold her?” in a voice that’s so thick with desire that Root can’t swallow the little noise that pops out of her.

“Yeah, baby, you can. And you can come as well, when you get there,” this one is for Zoe, really, and Root thinks they’ve pushed as far as Zoe should go this evening in regards to Shaw, she wants them all to finish off on a more balanced note so Zoe can be reassured that everything was super fun for everyone.

Shaw immediately pulls herself up a bit, using her stomach muscles, and in a display of impressive athleticism given the circumstances, pulls the pillows behind her and leans against them, wrapping her hands around Zoe’s hips, stroking Root with the back of them deliberately. 

Zoe rolls her hips, leans forward to press her hand into the wall, “yeah, I’m ready,” she groans, arching her back a little, and Root kisses her shoulders as she strokes over her asshole before slowly pushing in with one gloved finger.

It doesn’t take long to warm her up, considering their earlier activities, and within a few moments Zoe is reaching back for Root, curling her hand around Root’s leg and tugging, tipping her head back, “shit, Root, come on,” she pants, and Shaw can’t repress a little snicker. Root catches her eyes over Zoe’s shoulder and Shaw looks appropriately chastened, apart from the light dancing in her eyes. Root smirks and pulls her glove off slowly, with a snap.

The humour’s forgotten as Root eases closer, lines up and slowly thrusts home. Zoe’s whole body tightens, she curls forwards, pressing her head against Shaw’s shoulder and Shaw slides her hand up into Zoe’s hair, stroking her soothingly even as her own breathing hitches at the change in position and they rearrange a little to accommodate the new connections. 

Shifting and squirming closer together soon falls into a slow, drawn out rhythm that has Shaw wriggling under them, lifting her hips up as best she can with their weight over her thighs—Root thinks if they do this again she’d like to pin Shaw on her front, have Zoe fuck into her from behind and in turn fuck Zoe from on top of them both, so Shaw’s trapped under the whole force of their bodies and just has to fucking take it.

The thought makes her groan throatily, and Zoe cries out softly, burying her face in Shaw’s hair. It’s gentle, compared to fucking Shaw with Kelli, because Zoe doesn’t wanna hurt and burn and Root and Shaw are focused on her, on that. It’s an odd kind of connection, their eyes holding each other steadily with their bodies pressed tight against Zoe’s in the middle.

Soon Shaw’s eyes are rolling back in her head though, as Zoe finds her pacing and drives forwards a little, pushing Shaw back into the pillows and riding the strapon more determinedly. Root lets her set the speed, adjusts to her, holding herself back and wallowing in the long, slow burn of building sensation instead of hastening through it. 

Shaw comes with a cry, slamming her hand back against the wall and lifting hard enough that her hips leave the mattress meaning Zoe’s full weight forces her down harder, more, and Root reaches out for her clit, rubbing her in long, smooth strokes even as Shaw jerks and shudders into her until Zoe falls over after her, yelling her orgasm out and falling forward, curling into Shaw’s body. Root pulls out of her slowly before she’s done, working her through it with soothing hands down her back and sides, until Zoe’s stilled, lifting off Shaw and falling sideways into a heap.

Root yanks her harness off, pulls Shaw down the bed by the legs, quickly removes the feeldoe and then spins around so she can sit on Shaw’s face and bury her own face in Shaw’s pussy at the same time.

Shaw’s floppy and weak but Root rides her face with enthusiasm and licks her way into Shaw’s tender, overworked pussy. Shaw trembles and jerks, clearly too sensitive and wanting to pull away, but she’s still awake and at least trying to participate and that means she can take another, so Root slides her fingers in under her nose and fucks Shaw determinedly until she comes all over her face, letting her own orgasm wash through her at the same time, having been on the very verge of coming for a while it doesn’t take much.

Finally sated, she topples off Shaw’s limp, shaking body and breathes heavily, resting her face against Shaw’s leg. Zoe’s still lying where she fell, with her eyes closed, and showing no sign of stirring. Root’s own body is in full-on shuddery mode so she just shuts her own eyes and curls up against Shaw’s side, the wrong way up, sure, but she’s comfy and dizzy with orgasm.

The sound of someone moving pulls her out of a half doze, and she peels her eyes open to see Zoe stumbling out of the bed and to the bathroom. She shuts the door most of the way and Root listens to her swearing as she pees.

Scraping herself upright she manages to throw the sex paraphernalia onto the floor and get rid of the condoms, while Shaw doesn’t even twitch, not even when Root pulls the duvet out from under her so she can cover her lover’s body up.

Zoe’s yawning widely as she shuffles out of the bathroom, her eyes heavy, “jammies,” she demands lazily, and Root dithers for a moment, surprised.

Is Zoe planning on staying the night? Root hadn’t even thought about it and now Shaw has passed right the fuck out, she can’t ask. Zoe catches her eyeline, and maybe her train of thought and rolls her eyes.

“You don’t fuck a girl that hard and make her go sleep it off elsewhere, Root, don’t be rude. Shaw won’t mind. Gimme jammies.” She’s already pulling the corner of the duvet back, and Root shrugs, thinking if anyone can get away with sleeping with Shaw unexpectedly it’d be Zoe.

To give herself a second to adjust, she ducks into the bathroom, pees and rinses off before doing her teeth. Zoe’s curled up on the end of the bed in a heap, wrapped over Shaw’s legs, and she stirs when Root finds them both jammies. She pulls a tshirt and boxers on herself and wonders if she should disturb Shaw enough to dress her so she doesn’t wake up the only naked person. Not that she’ll care, probably. Root can practically imagine her grumbling about how they just jizzed all over each other and Root should relax.

Zoe just climbs in on the far side of the bed and manhandles Shaw into a small spoon, Shaw grumbles something and reaches out forwards, patting the bed, so Root figures that is definitely a good enough and crawls in next to her, wriggling til she’s pressed up against Shaw’s front. 

Shaw curls into her, mouths sleepily at her neck, shoves a hand down the back of Root’s jammy pants, and Zoe reaches over to curl her fingers around Root’s hip.

Root feels like she’s in a pile of puppies, but it’s warm and cozy and good and she pulls the duvet up under Shaw’s chin before closing her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to come and anon scream at me or message me @constantlyhalfcocked with your Thoughts and Feelings as long as they aren't that I should Find God, I got enough of that after Shootelli, thanks.
> 
> Also I run @kinkbossatyourservice, a sex ed blog where you can ask me your questions and I will tell you no lies. Sex ed is the best ed.


	6. Toe to Toe, Back to Back (let's go)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before. Aftercare. Lots of cozy, some Shoot smut, discussions of Things. I wrote almost 5k today, nice one me, a good writing day. 
> 
> for those of you who are sickened by romo, you may wanna take a deep breath. It's not extreme, but there are defs romo underpinnings to the end of this one shot.

Root wakes up to a soft cry of pain, her body reacting before her brain is quite on board. Shaw is balled up, clutching her leg, and Root bats her hand out of the way, digging her thumbs into the cramping muscle of Shaw’s calf with the confidence of practise.

“Okay, lover, I’ve got you, breathe for me, that’s right, sweet girl,” she gentles her with her voice while under her hands, the knot of spasming muscle relaxes slowly, melts away, and Shaw gasps in relief, panting. 

“Whazz happenin’?” a grouchy voice comes from across the bed, from Shaw’s other side, and Root abruptly gets with the program and remembers Zoe spent the night.

“Shaw had a cramp, it’s okay,” she keeps her voice low and soothing, not totally sure how to handle the morning after situation. Shaw needs her aftercare, needs Root today, but with Zoe here too she’s not totally sure what that should look like.

She finishes rubbing the cramp out, runs her hand down Shaw’s smooth leg gently, “I’ll run you a bath, babe.” That, at least, is straight-forward and necessary. Shaw’s muscles must be screaming at her after the pose she was in for so long.

Zoe shuffles into a sitting position, propping her elbows on her knees and looking at them through slightly sleep-bleary eyes, “I should... get out of your hair,” she mutters, and it’s at least half a question. 

“No, you have to stay,” Shaw mumbles into her pillow, reaching out without looking and failing miserably at doing anything other than lightly hitting Zoe in the knee with her elbow at a weird angle before she grunts in pain and curls back up. Root wishes she could see into Shaw’s head right now, but she seems relaxed apart from the physical stuff, and then she keeps talking, “‘s aftercare day. You gotta stay in case you drop.”

Shit, Root hadn’t even thought about that, so busy thinking about Shaw and what Shaw might need and want that she totally forgot to think about Zoe, or herself. That was Zoe’s first time experimenting with BDSM, and even though she wasn’t on the receiving end of any violence, that’s definitely not the only factor to consider—Root herself has experienced topdrop after a scene and it’s not anything she ever wants to go through again. And if Zoe leaves now, that could negatively affect Root as well. She has a sudden moment of vertigo thinking about kicking Kelli out, and then decides it was probably fine, Kelli wasn’t emotionally attached, and the scene wasn’t really rough. But last night Shaw got punished, and is clearly really hurting now, and if she wants Zoe to stay just in case then she should get what she wants, if possible. 

“Yeah, you should stay, let me take care of you and Shaw,” she decides, “unless you really want to leave, it’s better to get pampered a bit, make sure you’re okay with everything.”

“Mmm, I’m convinced,” Zoe wriggles back down, spooning up behind Shaw and petting her hair gently, “so, what, now you look after us?”

“Now I make sure you know how good you are,” Root smiles at them, she’s never seen Shaw so accepting of physical contact with anyone who wasn’t her, “I’m gonna run Shaw a bath, her muscles are hurting from being on the floor last night. Oh, and don’t tease her. There’s no teasing on aftercare days, okay?”

“Can I tease you?” Zoe inquires, a little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Nope, no teasing. We all have to be nice. Heavy scenes can...have a bit of an emotional whiplash, even for tops. Even for me.”

“Fine, no teasing,” Zoe mimes zipping her lips, but she does seem to have lost a bit of the nervous energy that was buzzing around her at first.

Root slides out of the bed, pads to the bathroom and sets up a bathpillow full of warm water, sticking it to the cold ceramic before running the bath how Shaw likes it. She grabs the massage oil and ointment out of the little cupboard, and pauses briefly. Usually Shaw would get a hot bath, and then a full on massage with a very gentle happy ending that sends her off to naptown again while Root cleans up and figures out food, but eating her out in front of Zoe seems like a weird, overly intimate thing to do in the cold light of day. 

She figures she can just find out what Shaw wants, or at least a bit, if Shaw doesn’t seem to know herself then Root can see how she reacts and hopefully figure it out from there. The two of them are curled up together like kittens when Root comes back in, and she smiles at the sight of it, sitting on the edge of the bed to run her hand down Shaw’s spine, “bathtime, Sameen,” and Shaw grumbles a little but allows Root to scoop her upright and help her, still naked, to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind them, and helps Shaw get settled into the bubbles, putting some music on for her to listen to.

“Baby, can you tell me anything about how you want me to handle Zoe?” She’s careful with her phrasing, not asking for solid information, for Shaw to make any decisions, and Shaw sighs in pleasure as Root dampens a washcloth and starts running it over her back and shoulders.

“Gotta make sure she’s okay,” Shaw mumbles into her own knees, and Root stifles the soft laugh that wants to bubble out.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea, I’m glad you said you wanted her to stay. I think it’ll be better. But what about after your bath, you need a rub down. And your tender bits need seeing to,” Root points out, lifting Shaw’s hair out the way so she can wash her neck.

“Mm maybe she can have a bath, or she won’t mind?” Shaw sounds like she’s falling asleep in the bath, it’s too cute.

“Okay, sweetie, I’ll talk to her. You relax,” she guides Shaw back carefully until she’s leaning on the pillow, she sighs in pleasure as her whole body is submerged in the heat.

“M relaxed,” Shaw agrees, her eyes firmly closed, and Root leans over to kiss her gently before getting to her feet and heading back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“How’re you feeling?” She inquires, sitting on the side of the bed and carefully putting her hand next to Zoe’s shoulder but not touching her until she wriggles closer.

“Alright, I think. Tired, a little sore. Glad you said I could stay,” Zoe answers after a second, her cotton clad shoulder warm under Root’s fingertips. 

“Do you need a bath? We’ve never done a morning after with someone else, so we’re not totally sure how this should go,” Root feels like honesty is the best policy, “usually Shaw has a bath, and then a massage, and I treat all her injured bits—which in this case includes her ass, she tore a little with the plug, but she’s fine—and she gets some nice, cozy, unreciprocated orgasms for the endorphins. So, generally I’d rub her down and then get her off and she’d have a nap again.” She’s not totally sure if she’s being clear on what information she needs from Zoe, so she tries to elaborate, “I don’t know if that makes you uncomfortable, or feel weird. Shaw suggested maybe if you didn’t wanna be around you could have a bath while I take care of her.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Zoe agrees, rolling in and pressing herself against Root’s side, “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not, Zo. We want you here, this is still part of the same situation. But we want you to be comfortable, too.”

“Bath sounds good,” Zoe reiterates, “I’m sleepy.”

“I bet,” Root agrees, “didn’t quite make it to eleven, but you did very well,” she pets Zoe’s hair gently, and then hears splashing from the bathroom.

“I’m gonna fish Shaw out and then run you a new bath, okay. And here,” she grabs a bottle of gatorade off the nightstand, “hydrate?” Zoe takes it after a moment, but doesn’t sit up, more cuddles with it like it’s a soft toy.

Shaw grumbles the way she always does when Root insists on drying her off gently, bit by bit, before wrapping her in a soft towel and leading her back to the bed to lie down. She flops on her front with a small grunt of pain, and Zoe wriggles over and strokes her back gently while Root returns to the bathroom to set a new, clean bathwater bath up for her. 

When she goes back into the bedroom, they’re in the same position, the gatorade bottle wedged between them. It’s very cute, their hair is all tangled and Zoe has her foot tucked over Shaw’s ankle.

“Alright, Zo, time for a bath,” Root helps her up, although she’s in much better shape than Shaw, and Zoe strips down before sliding into the water with a small groan of pleasure, “let me know if you need anything, okay? Door closed or open?”

“Open a bit?” Zoe murmurs, trailing her hands through the bubbles idly, and Root nods.

“You might hear Shaw, that okay?” 

“Mmm,” Zoe agrees quietly, closing her eyes, “I like the music.”

“It’s Melissa Ferrick,” Root replies, even though she’s not sure if Zoe wanted a band name, “this whole playlist is just beautiful voiced ladies.”

“S’nice,” Zoe slides down far enough that her chin is under water, “go take care of your baby.”

The way she says it isn’t sarcastic, and Root grins, pets her hair gently and withdraws, leaving the door open a few inches so Zoe’s not isolated. Shaw likes to be alone in the bath, or with Root in the bath also, usually. 

Shaw’s lying on her front, naked still, so Root tickles the back of her knee lightly, “spread for me, sweetie,” and Shaw begrudgingly does, wincing as Root rubs ointment carefully into her damaged bits, making shushing noises and stroking the curve of her ass cheek comfortingly. 

It only takes a moment, and then she nips into the bathroom to wash her hands thoroughly, and leaves the ointment on the side for Zoe, letting her know it’s there in case she needs it. 

Shaw’s closed her legs again, and Root sits down straddling her hips without putting her weight down, warms some massage oil in her palms and starts digging her fingers in. Shaw makes little grunts of pleasure-pain as Root gets into her deep tissue, working up and down her back, then her ass and each leg in turn, finishing with her arms and hands before rolling her over and repeating more gently on the front, eventually just turning into a petting situation rather than an actual massage. 

Shaw is limp and floppy and relaxed while Root skates her oily palms down her legs, urging them open gently and running an explorative finger softly over Shaw’s pussy.

“Mm, please,” Shaw mumbles, opening her legs further, and Root wriggles into a better position before leaning down and pressing her mouth against Shaw’s sensitive flesh. She doesn’t use her fingers, just her lips and tongue, grateful as always that they invested in the edible kind of massage oil. She works Shaw over ever so gently, taking her time and guiding her up and up until she falls over with a soft cry, pulsing against Root’s comforting mouth. 

When she sits back, wipes her chin off on her forearm, Shaw is already well on the way to sleepy town and Root can’t keep the affectionate smile off her face while she carefully pulls a sheet up over Shaw’s gleaming body. She’ll pull the sheets off later, do the laundry, but for now it doesn’t matter that there’s oil getting everywhere, because Shaw’s making little cozy snuffling sounds into her pillow and that’s more important.

Smoothing Shaw’s hair off her face, Root indulges in looking at her for a moment until Shaw mumbles, “get Zo,” and then she makes quick work of moving the pillows on the other side of the bed into a comfy pile and moves across the room to knock lightly on the bathroom door.

“Wanna come make a nap pile with Shaw?” She inquires, without pushing the door further open, and Zoe sounds groggy when she replies.

“Just a sec.”

Root leaves her to it, choosing to sit back on the mattress edge and pet Shaw, who nuzzles into her hand a little. 

Zoe pads out of the bathroom, once again clad in Root’s boxers and tee, and she grins when she sees them on the bed, “I like aftercare, this is very pleasant. Can I have a head rub?”

“Sure,” Root agrees easily, and Zoe wriggles into the bed, next to Shaw. Shaw half rolls over til she’s tucked against Zoe’s side, and Root slides out and hops back in on the other side, so she can pet Zoe’s head for her.

Zoe cozies down with Shaw, and Shaw hooks her hand right over Zoe’s body so she can grab Root’s waistband while Root dishes out some gentle headscratches and Zoe relaxes into a pile of mush.

When her breathing evens out, Root carefully wiggles out of Shaw’s loose grip on her jammy pants and sneaks out of the room.

She leaves them napping while she tidies up, makes some batter for waffles when they emerge from their cocoon, and generally plans for the day. Shaw usually likes a solid morning and afternoon of cozy, after which she tends to get antsy and need a bit of space, usually going for a walk or back to her own place. Root figures they’ll start with cozy, and see how the day goes. 

Once she’s as ready as she can be, she heads back into the bedroom and quietly puts away the sex detritus scattered in various places, before getting into the bed behind Shaw, muting her phone and doing some online stuff with her leg against Shaw’s back. 

Shaw wakes up first, rolls over and starts chewing on Root’s hip just above her waistband, “feed me, hungry,” she mumbles around a mouthful of flesh, and Root squeals and wriggles away, just about falling out of bed, it tickles so much.

“Ahh, get off, yes, I will feed you food not flesh, brat,” and Zoe makes complaining noises at the ruckus, wrapping her long arms around Shaw like an octopus and muttering ‘shhhh, shhhh’ into her hair. 

Root snickers at them as she escapes, clicking the coffee maker on and putting some batter in the waffle iron. She hums to herself as she leaves everything cooking. She can hear quiet talking from the bedroom, but figures that maybe they need a little deconstruction together, so stays in the kitchen putting a tray table of waffles, bacon and syrup together, along with orange juice, water and coffee, before carrying the whole shebang to the bedroom with some difficulty. 

Shaw wriggles upright from where she’d been maybe leaning against Zoe’s shoulder, and pats her legs excitedly, “waffles! I thought I could smell waffles.”

“I love waffles!” Zoe announces, also squirming into a sitting position and copying Shaw patting her legs, “I’m starving.”

“There’s more if you’re still hungry after,” Root sets the table down over Shaw’s right leg and Zoe’s left, so they can share, and then snags her mug of coffee and wanders around to the other side of the bed, clicking netflix on to the TV as she goes. 

“Requests? We’re in season four of Angel now if you’re into that, Zoe, or we were thinking about starting a rewatch of Orange is the New Black in preparation for the new season.”

“Ooh, continue the lesbian theme of the weekend, prison gay me up!” Zoe declares past a mouthful of waffles, and Shaw nods.

“Sounds good, but fast forward the bits with Mr American Pie,” she wriggles down a bit, her lips already sticky with syrup, and Root leans in to clean her off. With her tongue. Cause that’s the easiest and most convenient way. Shaw leans up for the kiss, making a little grumbly sound in her chest that Root secretly thinks of as her purring, but would literally never say out loud in case of death. 

“Cute,” Zoe yells excitedly, almost spilling her coffee, and Shaw growls and waves at the TV, still naked, but now with tiny crumbs of waffle decorating her chest.

They maneuver themselves into comfortable TV watching and eating appropriate position, Shaw ends up with one leg over Root’s shin, and Root’s arm along the pillows behind her head, where she can play with Zoe’s hair a little and drink her coffee with her other hand.

Once the food and drinks have been disposed of, they wriggle down into more of a cozy, Root turning almost sideways so she can, per request, rub Shaw’s full belly for her while she digests. 

They make it through three episodes before Shaw drifts off again, snuggling down and curling up into a little ball between them, her forehead against Zoe’s shoulder and her bum against Root’s thigh.

“I get it more now, I think,” Zoe murmurs, barely loud enough to be heard over the show, “I always knew what you guys had was really special, but I didn’t really understand. I’m glad you let me share.” 

Root nods, stroking Shaw’s flank, “s’not for everyone, but it works for us.”

“I don’t think it’s for me, really, I mean... not that I didn’t enjoy myself,” Zoe hastens to elaborate on her first statement, and Root smiles at her reassuringly, “but I’m not sure, the control thing. I liked being in the middle, but I feel like with just one partner I wouldn’t want to be either of you, does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Root agrees, selecting her words carefully, “and, I mean, that was fairly extreme for a first experience. Not everyone who’s into BDSM is into the same stuff, anyway, and there's levels. And loads of people are switches, anyway. You know that, right? Into both sides of the power equation.” Zoe nods her understanding.

“Yeah, I did some reading, when Shaw first told me she was,” Zoe waves a hand in the air, “into it, the kink stuff.”

“Different when you see it, though, I think?”

“It’s very... visceral. Like I said, I didn’t really understand. But now maybe I do, a bit more, anyway.”

“If you have questions, or you wanna talk about it, we can,” Shaw’s skin is so warm under Root’s palm she lifts the sheets for a moment, letting some air circulate, “but no pressure.”

“I think... I probably want to talk to Shaw some more. No offence.” Zoe looks down at Shaw between them with a fond expression. 

“That’s cool. And hey, if you ever wanna check out a kink party, we’re your guys. I’ve been trying to persuade Shaw to let me take her to one for ages, but even if we can't take you I have friends that can.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun. Why doesn’t she wanna go?” Zoe picks a waffle crumb off the sheet and eats it.

“You’ll have to ask her, sorry.” Root yawns widely and wriggles across to grab her phone, clicks netflix onto pause, “and I think I could use a nap also.”

“I... think I’m gonna head out,” Zoe says after a moment.

“You sure?” Root slides down into the sheets, “you’re welcome to stay.”

“Naw, I’m good. Although riding my scooter down here was maybe not my finest plan, my lady garden is very tender and sensitive right now. I might leave it here and take a cab.”

“I’ll bring it back tomorrow,” Shaw mumbles, stirring a little and rolling over into Root’s chest, “‘M glad you stayed a bit.”

“Me too, Shaw. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Zoe leans down and squeezes Shaw’s shoulder gently and then gives Root a half grin, “I’ll let myself out.”

“Text us you got home okay,” Root acquiesces, and Zoe nods.

“Thanks for a delightful and filthy evening, friends o’mine. I feel very glowy,” she slides out of bed, rolling her shoulders. 

“S’later, Zo,” Shaw manages another sentence before cocooning down into the sheet and dragging Root bodily with her. 

“Bye, team,” Zoe blows them a loud and sloppy kiss before heading for the bedroom door. Root hears her pottering around in the living area, presumably grabbing her clothes and getting dressed, and then the front door slams.

She presses her forehead into Shaw’s back and lets sleep pull her down into its warm embrace.

When she wakes up, Shaw is sitting up and looking at her with a thoughtful expression.

“Thank you,” she says, like she's been waiting to say it for a while when Root arches a lazy eyebrow in question.

“What for?” Root’s groggy and she wriggles over to lean on Shaw’s tummy.

“For... I dunno. Being good at me. For me. And stuff,” she fiddles awkwardly with her hands, not looking down at Root in her lap.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for being good at me, and for me, and stuff,” Root is very serious in her response, and Shaw manages a twitchy little half-grin.

“We’re pretty awesome at,” she waves a hand between them, clearly the word ‘dating’ would fit given the circumstances, but Root is always fine with Shaw avoiding the more romantic kind of terminology.

“Yeah, I’m pretty impressed with us and how great we are,” Root yawns and stretches a little, “I think Zoe had a good time. How are you feeling about it?”

“Really good, I think,” Shaw replies, after a minute, “it was... exciting to show her that side of us, I guess. That side of me?”

“Mmm, I can see that. Plus she totally told me you topped her when you guys hooked up before,” Root makes sure Shaw can see she’s smiling.

Shaw huffs in not-genuine irritation, “Not really, but I guess kind of. I top boys all the time as well, because they’re mostly useless. Doesn’t mean that’s what I like doing.”

“I know, baby,” Root strokes the soft skin at the base of Shaw’s belly gently, just above her pubic hair.

“How are you feeling about it? You said Zoe, and you said me, but you didn’t say you, did you have fun?” Shaw grumbles it, looking down at her hands.

“I did, yeah. I like showing you off, showing off what I can do to you. You’re so... mmm, good. Delicious, delightful,” Shaw’s going a bit pink in the cheeks at the compliments and it’s adorable, “sweet, obedient, eager-to-please, pleasing,” Shaw shoves at her shoulder gently, not enough that it actually means stop, though, “cute, sexy, desirable,” Root shuts up when Shaw puts her hand over her mouth, clearly at compliment capacity.

“You... are a pain in the ass,” Shaw replies, half-heartedly.

“Naw, baby, that was the stainless steel plug,” Root grins up at her, wriggles into a sitting position for a kiss, “and you were sooo good, holding on to it for me, fuck, lover, the noises you were making. Mm, I approve,” Shaw blushes a little more, hides her face in Root’s neck.

“You called me ‘love’, last night. Not lover,” she mumbles, her cheek hot against Root’s skin.

Root feels like she never would have brought that up, if she wasn’t feeling vulnerable. Honestly, she didn’t think Shaw had noticed, given the circumstances. She strokes her hand down Shaw’s back, “I did,” she agrees, without committing to anything further, one way or the other.

For a moment, she thinks Shaw is gonna push for more, ask why, but she just opens her mouth against Root’s throat, licks the skin gently, “you need a bath, you’re all salty. Like a salt lick.”

“S’good for you,” Root smirks, “you sweated it all out, now you need electrolytes, lick me clean.”

“Urgh, go and shower. And then bring me gatorade,” Shaw declines the generous offer of licking Root clean, and she snickers as she wriggles out of bed.

“Yes dear,” she replies drolly as she clicks the shower on.

When she emerges, clean and dry, Shaw is wearing boxers and a tee, curled up on her side with her phone, “Zoe’s fine, and she says she’s already scarred Joss for life with details,” she snickers.

“That’s nice, I’m sure JC will love never being able to look either of us in the eye again,” Root snorts, drying her hair with a towel and pulling some soft cotton miniboxers on. She grabs a gatorade from the minifridge and passes it over.

“Naw, it’s John that’s gonna be the funniest,” Shaw demurs, “JC handles everything with dignity and aplomb, she’ll be over it in seconds. Plus I’m sure she knew Zoe was coming here for bangs anyway, so it’s not a surprise. John, however, is going to want to throw up on his own genitals, and I am thrilled,” she grins widely at Root, who eyes her for a moment and then snorts.

“Please tell me we didn’t have a threesome with your housemate slash bestie so you could fuck with your other housemate slash bestie?” She asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Eh, only like.. Ten percent, maybe. It’s a delightful bonus to the excellent bangs. You’re really, really good at threeways.”

“Thanks,” Root is quite pleased by that as a compliment, “I do a lot of reading, and practise as often as feasible,” Shaw wriggles back into a lying down position when Root gets into the bed again.

“How many threesomes have you had?” Shaw asks with interest, and Root thinks for a minute before replying.

“I think that was my seventh. Wait, no. Eighth. And I’ve had two quite spectacular orgies,” she states, waiting for Shaw’s response with a hint of trepidation.

“Huh. I’ve never had an orgy,” Shaw responds after a moment’s pause, squirming around so she can put her hand down Root’s pants a bit just cozy, not with intent. “That was my fifth threesome. Third with two girls, third that was kinky.” 

“Orgies kind of spring out of kink parties, sometimes,” Root elaborates, letting a hiss of air escape when Shaw’s fingertips graze through her pubic hair.

“I don’t _not_ wanna go,” it takes Root a moment to realise Shaw is talking about kink parties, must have been half awake when she’d mentioned it to Zoe, she waits to see if Shaw has any more thoughts on the topic, but it seems she doesn’t want to say anything else right now, and Root doesn’t want her to feel pressured or anything, so she just lets her legs fall open underneath Shaw’s fingers, giving her space to explore, which she takes advantage of, easing her hand down and trailing across Root’s softest bits, making her inhale deeply.

Shaw cozies down against her side, explores with her fingertips. She doesn’t ask if it’s okay, because she knows Root would tell her if it wasn’t, they don’t check in too much in that direction because Root is completely confident and comfortable pulling away from anything she doesn’t want.

Shaw hums happily and slides her fingers over Root’s clit, making her gasp and shudder a little. She’s sensitive, but in a good way, and the touches feel really good, reassuring and reaffirming what’s between them, somehow.

She opens her legs a little further, hooks one over Shaw’s thigh, “inside is okay, if you want,” she breathes, and Shaw kisses her nipple, slides two fingers into her slowly and rubs herself against Root’s side like a cat until they both come apart at almost the same time, soft and slow and warm.

Root doesn’t remember falling asleep again, but she must do, because it’s dark when she wakes up, and Shaw is drooling on her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this fluff made you smile a bit even with the Terrible World. Hugs and cozy to all.


	7. Celebrate Good Times (Grad Pt 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parents visit for Grad!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is definitely not my finest work but it's been really hard to write for whatever reason so hopefully it's fine.
> 
>  **content warning** mention of Brexit

“Come on, Root, what are you doing?” Shaw complains from the kitchen counter, where she’s perched, phone in hand while Root finishes doing God knows what in the bathroom. “You’re not even graduating!” Shaw smooths down her black dress with her spare hand, swinging her feet forwards to check her shoes still look nice. They do. 

 

“Urgh, I’m coming, I’m coming,” Root bustles out of the bathroom looking harangued, pink in the cheeks and fidgeting nervously with the side of her bright blue dress. 

 

“We don’t have time for you to come, we’re gonna be late to pick up my mom,” Shaw slides off the counter, landing deftly. 

 

“Ha ha,” Root strides across to the door and scans frantically, “where are my shoes? I left them right here!”   
  
“Uh...” Shaw points down at Root’s feet, which are already clad in the strappy black sandals she bought especially for the occasion. 

 

“OH, good. Okay. I’m ready!” Root grabs her purse and rummages through it, mouthing something silent under her breath.

 

Shaw grabs her hand, tugs gently, making Root stop what she’s doing and turn, “are you nervous?!” Root’s eyes widen a little, and Shaw can’t swallow a little chortle, “you are, you’re nervous!”

 

“How on earth do you expect me  _ not  _ to be nervous, Sameen, I’m about to meet your dear maman who apparently doesn’t know I exist and yet is going to sit next to me at the ceremony,” she finds her keys with a flourish that somehow ends up with her dropping them on the floor, and Shaw lets go of her hand to bend down and scoop them up.

 

“Yes, well. It never came up?” She grumbles, opening the door, “do you want me to drive?”

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Root walks through the door, throws her hands up in the air and dodges back past Shaw just before she closes it, grabbing her shawl off the kitchen stool. “Okay, yes, maybe you should drive. I think I’m having a panic attack. What if she hates me?”   
  
“You’re not having a panic attack, and she won’t hate you,” Shaw carefully slides her hand around Root’s hip as they head to the elevator, “relax. She’ll be thrilled I am introducing her to someone, let alone someone like you.”

 

“What do you mean someone like me, a girl? Does she even know you like girls?” Root untenses minutely, leans into Shaw’s hand.

 

“She’s known that I like girls since she caught me making out with our neighbour’s daughter when I was thirteen,” Shaw says dryly, hitting the P button since it seems like Root isn’t going to any time soon, “and I meant smart, and pretty and stuff.”

 

Root’s nervous expression evaporates and her eyes go big and soft, so Shaw rolls her own defensively.

 

“You think I’m smart and pretty?” Root practically melts, leaning down to wrap herself into Shaw’s arms. Shaw allows it until the elevator pings and then untangles, pushing Root gently in the direction of the car.

 

“No, Root, I’m dating you because I think you’re stupid and ugly and I like that in a person to spend all my time with,” she huffs, beeping the car open and sliding into the driver’s seat. It takes her a good few minutes to adjust the seat out of ‘enormous leggy human’ position into ‘normal sized person’. 

 

When she glances at Root, she’s gazing at her with a soppy expression on her face. Shaw rolls her eyes again for good measure and starts the car, which turns the radio on. She can feel the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth and knows she’s not fooling anyone. “Honestly, Root, you are so gay sometimes.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Root sighs, much more relaxed than she was earlier as she clicks her seatbelt on. “Gay  _ and  _ smart  _ and  _ pretty though.”

 

“Humph,” Shaw turns the car out of the parking lot and on route to the train station, “I’m still blaming you if we’re late.”

 

***

 

“Maman!” Shaw calls, lifting an arm in restrained greeting, and Root concentrates super hard on not squeezing her butt, which looks very cute in the mid-thigh length dress Shaw is sporting. It has a high neck with cut-outs and cool gold detailing, and Shaw looks delicious, but Root is on Best Behaviour ‘cause she’s about to meet Shaw’s mom, and oh shit, there she is, striding down the platform and should they be walking forward to meet her? Should Root go and take her bags, oh, Shaw is walking over and Root belatedly trails after her, trying to stop her brain from babbling. 

 

“Sameen!” Shaw’s mom carefully parks her suitcase before wrapping her arms around Shaw for a hug that lasts until the exact split-second Shaw is about to shift uncomfortably and then is abruptly over, “it is so wonderful to see you, I’m so proud of you, and you look beautiful,” Shaw makes her ‘I’m pretending to be uncomfortable but I’m actually fine’, face, and Root knots her fingers around her purse strap nervously in case she has a momentary panic and tries to hug Shaw’s mom also.

 

“Hi, maman, how was your trip?” Shaw takes her mother’s wheely bag and is clearly about to walk towards the entrance.

 

“It was fine, thank you. And who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce me to your...” Shaw’s mom looks Root up and down with her eyebrow half cocked in a way that is so viscerally familiar Root’s blinks, taken aback, at seeing Shaw’s expression on someone else’s face, so that she almost misses the end of the sentence, “..date?”

 

Shaw winces, waves a hand at Root, “this is Root, maman. She’s my, uh, girlfriend.” Root firmly squashes down her inner squee and forces her body to calm down.

 

She offers her hand, “pleased to meet you, Mrs Shaw,” Shaw’s mom takes Root’s hand in hers, but pulls her in for a hug before releasing her but keeping her hands for a second while she looks up at her. 

 

“Oh, please, call me Reyhan. Root, that’s an interesting name. So, how long have you been dating my daughter? What are your intentions towards her? Do you want children?” Shaw makes an incoherent noise as Reyhan lets go of Root and starts walking towards the exit, still talking, “calm down Sameen, I’m just joking,” she shoots Root a wicked look full of mischief over her shoulder, and Root relaxes, hurrying to catch up.

 

“Well, we just made it official a month or so ago,” she replies, smirking at Shaw’s indignant little face as she battles with the suitcase, trying to race after them.

 

Shaw groans, the suitcase almost twisting out of her hand as she manages to catch them and fall into step, “no, no interrogations, no talking of future plans.”

 

“Honestly, Sameen, if you told me anything I wouldn’t have to interrogate your friends, would I?” Shaw’s mom replies cheerfully, and Root leads the way towards the car, snickering, she feels much better about the whole day already. “Speaking of friends, where is the rest of the Team? I can’t wait to see them! You must all be so excited, everyone graduating except Harold. Oh, are you graduating today, dear?” She asks Root as Root slides into the front of the car after Shaw unlocks it. 

 

“I just finished my Masters, so my ceremony isn’t at the same time,” Root answers smoothly, choosing not to tell Reyhan she has no intention of going.

 

“It’s this afternoon. Except she’s not going,” Shaw promptly ruins the plan, loading the suitcase into the back seat and sliding in after it, clearly expecting her mom to take the front seat with Root. It’s very cute, but does  _ not  _ make up for the fact that Shaw’s mom is now looking at her with a distressed face.

 

“But that’s such an achievement, you should be acknowledged!” She buckles up, and Root grabs the keys off Shaw, narrowing her eyes at her for revealing the information. 

 

“It’s been a difficult year, I decided I’d rather celebrate Shaw,” maybe if she brings the focus back onto their relationship Shaw’s mom will let it go. 

 

“Hmm,” she says, noncommittally and Root breathes an inner sigh of relief. She’d rather not have to go up on a stage, have her hand shaken by Control and be surrounded by peers she’d essentially disappeared on. She missed five exams, after all, people are going to be curious. 

 

Thankfully, Shaw must catch on a little to Root’s discomfort, and changes the subject back to the Team, “they’re all at a pub next to the ceremony hall with Joss’ parents and Zoe’s dad,” Root gathers from Shaw’s tone, and previous comments, that Joss’ folks get two thumbs up and Zoe’s dad does not. “Harry’s gonna sit with Joss’ mom and dad, but we’ll all meet up after we’re done with the thing.”

 

“The thing! It’s your graduation, Sameen!” Reyhan teases, sparing a smile for Root as she turns them off the highway. “Just you and I sitting together then, Root. Great, we’ll have plenty of time for interrogations.”   
  
In the back seat, Shaw groans and buries her head in her hands. 

 

***

 

The auditorium is huge and too hot, the high ceilings doing nothing to stifle the heat of hundreds of people packed in like sardines. The wood-floored stage glows orange in the warm lighting, and Shaw shuffles forwards slowly as the students go up one by one. 

 

Her robe is itchy and chafing her neck, and she’s sure she’s gonna have little red marks when she takes it off, but she’s finally, finally almost at the front of the huge queue of students. Joss got called ages ago, Zoe was about twenty students prior, John just went, and Shaw’s going to be up in probably less than five minutes. 

 

She can see Root and her mom with their heads bowed over a program, probably talking shit and getting her in trouble. She should have predicted this, but in all fairness she’s never introduced her mom to anyone she was dating before, how could she have seen the ganging-up coming. Considering she’s never actually dated anyone in any way before, she supposes her mom is just excited that she’s finally ‘brought someone home’, so to speak. At least Shaw knows Root won’t get her in hot water, or, not on purpose, anyway.

 

She’s startled out of her thoughts and eagle-eyed surveillance of her lover and mother gossiping together by her name finally being called, and she just about trips over her robe up the steps in shock as she hurries forwards.

 

A sweaty-handed shake from a man she doesn’t even recognise, and she’s getting handed her certificate while her head of department announces, “with a Major in Organic Chemistry and a Minor in Biology, Sameen Shaw,” and a little hot spark of pride burns in her chest as her maman claps her hand over her mouth in shock--Shaw may have kept the fact she took enough classes for a minor a secret--before bursting into applause along with the rest of the room. Shaw can hear Zoe shouting and John doing his famed wolf-whistle as she makes her way carefully across the stage, down the other side, and into her reserved seat near the front. 

 

From two rows ahead, Zoe waves frantically like there’s a possibility Shaw didn’t know exactly where she was, and John, on the end of the row just in front of Shaw leans over for a fist bump, which she accepts happily. The rest of the ceremony flashes by, and then everyone is cheering again, and it’s all hats in the air and tumbling out of the fancy building into the bright sunlight. 

 

Zoe grabs her arm and John waves Joss over, yelling “Carter,” as they find a place to stand on the grass spreading away from the auditorium. They do the requisite hugs and high fives, and John excitedly produces a pack of cigars just as Root and Harry and Shaw’s mom make it over to their group.    
  
Shaw’s mom hugs everyone, as she is wont to do, and then John insists they all do cigar-holding poses for photos, and Mr and Mrs Carter arrive with Mr Morgan in tow, and it’s all just a mass of people of the kind that overwhelms Shaw pretty quickly. 

 

Root slides them out of the group deftly, runs her hand down Shaw’s back and murmurs, “beer soon,” and Shaw nods, grateful for the moment of peace and quiet with Root before they’re dragged back in for more pictures. 

 

Eventually, the green empties off enough for them to all start making their way to the restaurant Zoe’s dad made reservations at. He makes sure they are all  _ very  _ clear on how difficult they would be to get for anyone except him, much to Shaw’s irritation. Root catches her eye and winks, linking arms with Zoe so she has an excuse to drop back a little, and Shaw mooches in on Zoe’s other side for the walk, leaving Joss and the boys to do the parent wrangling for a bit.

 

“Sorry about him,” Zoe mutters, eye-rolling at her dad, and Shaw snorts in solidarity. 

 

“Can’t pick your parents,” Root nudges her shoulder gently, and Zoe nods.

 

“Very true. If I could I’d pick Joss’,” she snickers, pointing at how Joss’ dad currently has John in some sort of wrestling hold, they’re monkeying about cheerfully waiting for the crosswalk light to change. “Are your folks coming up for grad?”

 

“Nope,” Root replies, and Shaw swaps her purse onto her other shoulder and pinches Zoe’s butt so she squeaks, immediately distracted into trying to fend Shaw off and pinch her back in retaliation, just as Shaw planned. A very cunning distraction. She knows Root’s parents are dead, but that’s about it, and Root clammed up pretty hard on the topic so she figures it’s at least somewhat of a touchy subject. 

 

Root looks at her with a half-smile like she knows exactly why Shaw did that, and it makes Shaw feel warm and squirmy in about equal amounts. Then Zoe just about twists her ankle trying to dodge in high heels, and they resume walking like normal humans. 

 

***

 

The restaurant Zoe’s dad picked is swanky as fuck, but Root’s been there a couple of times with clients and the server greets her with enthusiasm. She does tip very well, after all. Having listened to Hanna bitching about being bar staff for years has left Root with a healthy impulse to tip heavily, it’s not like she can’t afford it. Her mind briefly skips to wondering how Control is gonna pay them. It’s not super important to her, and Harold also seems to be surprisingly well-off for a student, but still worth asking. She makes a mental note to ask about contracts.

 

She nods her thanks as they are seated without a wait, even though they’re early, and listens politely as Zoe’s dad—Mark—tries to engage her in conversation about the wine list. Somehow he’s ended up across from her, with Zoe on his left opposite Shaw, Reyhan is on the end of the table next to Shaw. Root’s sat next to Finch, with John on his other side opposite Mark, and Joss on the other end of the table. It’s a lot of people to be sat altogether, and while Root would love not to be sat with Zoe’s dad, as all he has talked about so far is how rich and important he is, she doesn’t begrudge the seating arrangements Shaw finagled them into. She knows Shaw is trying to make sure Zoe doesn’t get abandoned. 

 

“Root, you must tell me more about your Master’s thesis,” Reyhan interrupts Mark smoothly when he pauses for breath, and Root relaxes a little as she turns her attention to Shaw’s mom. She was about thirty seconds from ordering wine in French for the whole table, because that’s the sort of power move that might actually shut Mark up, but she doesn’t want to be rude to the other parents at the table. She thinks Reyhan would probably think it was funny, but Joss’ parents are a different matter, she hasn’t quite got a read on them yet. 

 

“Well, I was developing security protocols for an up-and-coming navigations company,” Root switches gears easily, “so basically just redesigning their systems from the ground up to make them more secure and streamlined, it’s not very exciting.”

 

The drinks waiter arrives and Mark, predictably, dominates the order process. John manages to get his request for an IPA in but everyone else is going to be drinking Shiraz, it seems. It’s a decent year, at least. 

 

“I think your project sounds intriguing! Like something out of a spy movie,” Reyhan replies when their drinks orders are done, flicking through her food menu, and Zoe snorts laughter into her water glass.

 

“Honestly, Zoe,” her dad mutters disdainfully.

 

“Oh, this wine is Italian?” Finch declares, “I do hope we have time for a wine tour when we’re in Italy,” his attempt at deflecting attention works, but he then has to suffer through a detailed and pretentious recounting of Mark’s ‘four or five’ trips to Italy that lasts until the server comes to take their food order, regardless of multiple attempts by the rest of the team to change the subject. 

 

Shaw hasn’t even opened her food menu, ordering ‘whatever your best steak is, blue,’ and Root slides her hand onto Shaw’s warm thigh under the table while she orders the spinach ravioli for herself. 

 

Talk quickly turns into a discussion of the Team’s upcoming Eurotrip, which dissolves into lamentations about Brexit and a rather heated political debate they’re all pretty much on the same side for, albeit with slightly different angles. 

 

The food is delicious, and Shaw barely speaks while she’s devouring her bloody steak, surfacing only to demand to try Root’s ravioli and occasionally check her phone. Root knows the city has a game this evening, and sure enough when she catches sight of Shaw’s screen it’s the soccer. 

 

Mark makes a couple of pointed comments about dining etiquette, and then eventually turns to Reyhan to ask, “are you really going to let her sit there on her phone all evening?” With a martyred tone in his voice.

 

Shaw looks up at him with a mouthful of steak and a knife clutched threateningly in her hand, but before Root can defuse the situation, Reyhan pats Shaw’s hand gently and responds, “my adult daughter doesn’t need my permission to do anything, but what is the score, Sameen? I was meaning to ask.” 

 

Shaw swallows heavily, “we’re up 3-2, but Carret just went off injured,” she stabs her last bite of meat.

 

“How long’s left?” Zoe inquires, delicately polishing off the last bite of her salad with a continued lack of her usual flailing and enthusiasm. It makes Root itchy to see Zoe trying so hard. 

 

“Eleven minutes,” Shaw hits the lock button on her phone and sets her knife and fork together on her plate. 

 

Root mostly tunes out the soccer conversation while she resists the urge to stab Mark in the thigh with a fork. 

 

When their plates have been cleared, Mark makes a big show out of pulling his credit card out and declaring it’s ‘on him’, and Root excuses herself to go to the bathroom. It takes her less than three minutes to hack his financials and put a block on his credit cards, and when she saunters back to the table after paying to find him arguing with a server, Shaw gives her a raised eyebrow look that lets Root know she definitely didn’t get away with it.

 

“It’s taken care of,” she murmurs, winking at Zoe, and waving away the thanks as the server detangles himself from Mark and shoots her a grateful look. Shaw pinches her thigh discreetly as she leans her hands on the back of her chair.

 

“So, cocktails?” Joss declares brightly, sliding out of her chair. She looks tip top in her teal dress and matching shoes. 

 

“I’ve got an early flight, and now I clearly need to call my bank,” Mark gets to his feet, anger setting his face into a cold expression. 

 

They all leave, and wait around for Zoe to say goodbye to her father before he gets into a cab, and then Reyhan links one arm with Zoe and Joss’ mom takes the other, in a clear declaration of solidarity.

 

“What is it you kids say? Let’s get wasty pants?” Joss’ mom teases, and behind her, Joss’ dad gives a dramatic groan.

 

“If I twist my ankle again, I’m blaming you!”

 

“You did last time as well, dear.”

 

Zoe manages a giggle and they head into the hotel next door’s bar. 

  
  
  
  



	8. Pour Some Sugar On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grad pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **content warning** alcohol, marijuana, smut, bondage, ice play, mild food play (candy, it barely counts), dildos, bjs, oral, fucking.
> 
> Smut marked with a rule.

Shaw corners Root while everyone else is at the bar or finding seats, and raises her eyebrow, “did you seriously manage to block Mark’s credit cards in the time it took you to _walk_ to the bathroom?” She demands.

 

Root can’t quite read her expression, so she’s slightly nervous when she replies—what if Shaw thinks she overstepped? “Uh, yeah.” She doesn’t explain that it was because he was being a huge dick, Shaw was there, after all.

 

“You’re the best,” Shaw leans up for her mouth, and Root grins into the kiss, relieved, as she obligingly ducks her chin so Shaw can reach. God, her lips are so soft, mmm, Root pushes them open gently and for a second the bar fades out around them as Root realises they haven’t made out for like nine hours which is _shockingly_ long for them.

 

It’s all little breathy sighs into each other’s mouths and soft, wet slide of tongue that starts a familiar warmth curling in the base of her stomach, she slides her hands around Shaw’s hips, down to the curve of her ass...

 

“Excuse me, not that I’m not delighted to see Shaw so... happy, but I could use a little help,” Root lurches back like she’s been stung, she can feel the blood heating her cheeks. Shaw’s mom mostly looks amused as she hands them two of the three drinks she has balanced precariously in her hands, “save the private celebration for later, Sameen,” she teases, and Shaw groans.

 

“Sorry, maman,” she mumbles sheepishly and her mom smirks.

 

“Let’s call it revenge for the time you walked in on me and your father,” there’s a wicked light in her eyes, and Shaw gasps indignantly.

 

“Urgh, mood officially spoiled. Thanks for bringing up my childhood trauma.” She lets go of Root’s hip, her fingers tracing a little star shape before she pulls her hand away.

 

“My pleasure. Look, the Carters have found us a table,” Reyhan gestures with her glass, a colourful cocktail of some kind that matches the one Root now has in her hand. She cools off by taking a big gulp. It’s icy and fruity with a kick of rum behind the sugary sweetness. Delicious.

 

“It’s Maman’s special,” Shaw observes, taking a sip of her own drink before squeezing out of the small corner they were in and heading for the table of their friends.

 

This time, Root finds herself down by the Carters, who are, as predicted, delightful. Joss’ mom engages her and Harry in a fascinating discussion about some developments in Satellite technology she’s been working on, while Joss’ dad jokes around with John and Joss about becoming police officers. Reyhan and Zoe join in both conversations while somehow managing to hold their own about some court case they’re both following, and Shaw mostly sits and drinks, popping a oneliner in every now and again, but seemingly content to listen to her friends and family bantering. It’s a really fun, relaxed vibe, and Root is having a great time when the bell rings for last call.

 

“This one’s on us,” Joss’ mom declares, a slight exaggeration to her movements the only evidence of the half-dozen cocktails they’ve all consumed, “we’re so proud of all of you!” She gets up and heads over to the bar while Joss’ dad and Shaw’s mom give everyone a congratulatory hug, even Finch and Root who didn’t exactly graduate today.

 

The Carters and Reyhan are staying in the same hotel, so they grab a cab together and Root and Shaw wave goodbye to the Team as well, deciding to walk back to Root’s apartment.

 

It’s a gorgeous summer night, and Shaw’s drunk enough that she makes a solid attempt at blowing Root—who isn’t even packing—in four separate alleys, much to Root’s amusement.   

 

By the time they make it back to her place, Shaw is pressing up against Root’s back like a cat as they stumble through the door.

 

Root fends her off, kicking her shoes away, “Shaw, you know we have to take pictures for your maman,” she groans, trying not to let Shaw get her hands under her dress.

 

“What? She has loads, it’s graduation, Root, fuck me like one of your graduate girls,” Shaw snickers, squirming closer so Root’s backed against the countertop.

 

“No, she made me promise, I am not breaking a promise to your maman, Shaw. Go and put your robe and hat and cords back on,” Root wriggles away, holds her hands up in a pretend crucifix.

 

“Urgh, why do I like you?” Shaw grouches, but obediently pulls her robe back out of the plastic bag it came in that she’s been lugging around all day and pulls it on. Root helps her arrange her cute little mortar board, and the yellow cords around her neck, and then positions her in front of the window and grabs her fancy camera.

 

Shaw begrudgingly poses for a few shots in various light, until Root nods, satisfied. She’s about to shrug the robe off, when Root grabs her hands, stilling them before wrapping her fingers around the cord ends dangling at her waist.

 

“What do these mean, Shaw?”

 

“...Cum Laude?” Shaw replies uncertainly, clearly able to pick up from Root’s tone that she’s not exactly looking for a straight answer.

 

“Uh uh uh, close. But no cigar. They mean come loudly. As in, you’re about to. Again, and again, and again. You little sneak, you didn’t even tell me you were graduating with a minor and honours.”

 

Shaw shifts, maybe uncomfortable with the listing of her accomplishments, and Root smirks down at her, “bedroom, pee first and then I want you on your knees on the bed. Keep the hat and the cords on,” she hums, and Shaw gulps as her lips part and she licks them unconsciously.

 

* * *

 

Root jerks her head in the direction of the bedroom, and Shaw just about falls over in her haste to kick her shoes off and make it to the bedroom, trying to do both at once with a distinct lack of her usual grace.

 

Root snickers quietly and makes herself a glass of ice water, 90% ice, 10% water. She takes her dress off carefully, drapes it over the kitchen stool, and pads towards the bedroom in her underpants. She hasn’t been wearing a bra all day, much to Shaw’s continued distraction.  

 

When she ambles into the bedroom, sucking on an icecube. Shaw hastens out of the bathroom, naked but for her mortarboard and with her cords dangling around her neck. She slips onto the bed and kneels up, folding her hands together over her pussy and dropping her chin.  
  
Root sets her glass down and adjusts the lighting, sorts some music out, listens to Shaw’s breathing picking up every time she veers near to the bed. When she crunches her icecube between her teeth Shaw flinches, sending a warm wave of power through Root’s body.

 

She slides onto the bed behind Shaw, running her fingers down the cords draped around the nape of her neck, picks the end of one up and uses the tassel to rub over Shaw’s stomach, making the smaller girl shiver.

 

“Hands behind your back, lover,” she murmurs, nosing into Shaw’s hair, still twirled into an updo under her motarboard. Shaw obediently moves her arms and laces her fingers together behind her back, and Root lets go of the cord to run her hands appreciatively up and down the small, muscular body, “mmm, you’re all warm,” She licks a cool trail down the side of Shaw’s throat, then picks up the cords and slides them slowly off Shaw’s shoulders, goosebumps appear where the fabric slithers over her skin.

 

She makes a set of Prusik cuffs and slides them into place around Shaw’s ankles, locking them so they won’t slip or tighten, and then wraps each end around one of Shaw’s wrists, so she’s in a basic kneeling hog-tie. She has enough cord left over that she threads one end over each of Shaw’s shoulders, and reef-knots them at the base of her throat. It’s mostly for the visual, although Shaw would be able to choke herself a little if she pulled down on the cords a lot. If they weren’t drunk then Root would grab them behind her neck to choke her out, but that’s not what they’re doing tonight. It’s just a little extra sensation for now.

 

Shaw’s breathing has hastened into rough little pants while she’s being restrained, and Root presses her body against Shaw’s back, sliding her hands around her hips and scratching gently with her nails, soothing her until she’s breathing properly again.

 

Satisfied with her lover’s position, she takes a second to angle Shaw’s mortarboard rakishly, and then picks her up ice water and fishes an icecube out. She runs it down Shaw’s spine, and Shaw can’t swallow her surprised yelp, making Root smirk as she draws some wet patterns across Shaw’s hot skin, admiring the trails of water droplets left behind.

 

If she draws a heart, it’s not like anyone is there to notice, she snickers.

 

She tugs gently on Shaw’s restraints, runs the icecube around her hipbone and over her stomach, absorbing the little shifts Shaw can’t control.

 

“Wanna play a game, baby?” She inquires, popping the icecube into Shaw’s belly button and holding it there.

 

“Ah, whatever you want, Root,” Shaw replies, making Root’s stomach flip in pleasure at the submissive response.

 

“Hmm, good girl. Okay, if you can guess what I’m writing, you get a treat,” Root hums, pulling the remaining sliver of icecube out of Shaw’s belly button and throwing it on the floor, getting a new one and sitting back a little to press it against Shaw’s shoulderblade.

 

She writes in swooping, cursive font, ‘congratulations,’ across Shaw’s upper back, and Shaw moans softly before guessing correctly. She’s pretty smart, and it was a contextually obvious word, Root supposes.

 

“Very clever,” Root kisses her neck and slips off the bed, rummaging through the sex box until she comes out with a chuppa chups lollipop, “time for a treat,” Root knows for a fact that Shaw has been epically confused about _why_ exactly Root is storing hard candy lollies in their sex box, but Root hasn’t seen fit to enlighten her until now. She pulls the wrapper off and discards it before licking her lips and then popping the treat into her mouth as she crawls slowly back onto the bed.

 

Shaw’s eyes stay glued to her mouth as she sits down, holds the candy by its stick and takes it out of her mouth before running it over her lips like lipgloss and leaning up to kiss Shaw.

 

Shaw surges into the contact, making a soft pleased noise under her breath at the sweet sugary taste and the sensation of kisses. Root pulls back, reapplies, and lets Shaw suck her tongue and lips clean again before pulling out of reach and slowly licking the candy until it’s gleaming damply in the low lighting.

 

The jump when she presses it against Shaw’s nipple is _delightful_ and Root  takes her time, applying a thick, sugary coating to Shaw’s soft skin, attending to one nipple and then the other until they are shining and sticky looking.

 

She holds the candy up for Shaw to take in her mouth without looking as she leans down to suck Shaw’s left nipple into her mouth.

 

Shaw squeaks as she bites down, licking the tender flesh clean with broad, soft strokes while it’s trapped between her teeth.

 

Satisfied that she’s cleaned off all the sugar, Root shifts around again to draw a second word in ice on Shaw’s back. Each incorrect guess earns her a sharp bite, but she gets the word ‘owned’ correct on the fourth try.

 

For the second reward round, Root cools her mouth with an icecube while she loads Shaw’s nipples up with candy again and chews them clean.

 

They play five more times, leaving Shaw speckled with pink bite marks that might mean she won’t be able to wear a tanktop without her mom seeing them tomorrow, depending on how well they bruise up—Root’s pretty smug about that because she’s a terrible person—before the candy runs out.

 

Root can smell their heat, their arousal, and it’s making her feel tingly all over. Shaw looks so good tied up, although the cords aren’t the colour Root would have chosen she feels like the graduation theme has been suitably dealt with. Shaw didn’t even drop the hat, she’s so good.

 

Leaving Shaw on the bed, still restrained, Root washes her favourite blowjob dick and straps on. When she walks back into the bedroom, Shaw makes a little throaty sound, eyes lasering in on Root’s cock. She fists it lightly as she pads across the room to the desk, leaning her hip on it while she packs a bowl, “I’m gonna come down your throat, baby, so I hope you’re willing to work for it,” she sparks up and inhales deeply.

 

“Fuck, yeah,” Shaw breathes out, reading that she’s allowed to speak in Root’s relaxed body language. They’re so good at subverbal communication now it makes Root’s chest feel light and fizzy.

 

She empties her lungs and takes another puff, before putting the pipe down and padding over to the bed. She leans down to offer Shaw a chestful of smoke, Shaw tilts her head away almost imperceptibly, and Root pulls back, exhaling into the ceiling and sliding her hand around the nape of Shaw’s neck, toying with the little hairs there.

 

Shaw leans into her hand a little, her eyes fluttering closed. Root admires her smooth, golden skin, the tiny little creases only Root gets close enough to see showing the way Shaw crinkles her eyes just a tad when she’s happy. She could look at Shaw for days, if it didn’t make her all squirmy and uncomfortable. Maybe she should learn to paint, Shaw might not mind so much if Root was doing something. When she paints Root she makes her lay still for hours at a time, looking at her.

 

Shaw shifts slightly in her bonds and Root leans forwards to kiss her, inadvertently knocking her dick against the side of the mattress. It sends tremors through her, and she exhales in a slow, drawn out hum.

 

Shaw blinks her eyes open, starts at how close Root’s face is to hers and then tilts her chin so Root can kiss her without knocking her hat askew.

 

Sliding her hand around to cup Shaw’s jaw, Root obliges, their lips brushing against each other and then pressing firmer. Shaw opens her mouth for Root’s tongue, letting her lick in, shivering as Root nips at her lip and licks over it.

 

Suddenly desperate to feel that soft mouth in more pertinent places, Root pulls back with a soft sigh, brushing her thumb across Shaw’s cheekbone before climbing onto the bed, standing up in front of Shaw so her dick is at a good level.

 

She knocks on the top of Shaw’s hat gently, “drop this, and I’ll put you to bed without any supper,” she teases, before tapping Shaw’s cheek until she obediently opens her mouth. Root pushes her fingers in for a moment, and Shaw sucks on them eagerly, hollowing her cheeks out. It’s hot and wet and soft and Shaw does this amazing, rolling movement with her tongue against Root’s sensitive digits, making her shudder and lust surge in her veins.

 

She pulls back reluctantly, shuffles in and grabs her dick at the base, waiting for Shaw to look up at her before nudging against her bottom lip and letting Shaw work out the angle.

 

The sight of Shaw wrapping her lips around Root’s dick and sliding down makes Root’s hips stutter forward, and Shaw inhales sharply, gagging a little but she recovers fast and pushes down, then slides off and licks at the tip for a moment. Her tongue is pink and fast, and Root hums happily at the view, letting Shaw take a minute of playtime before pushing forwards demandingly.

 

Shaw sits down on her heels a little for balance, not able to use her hands, she has to work hard to keep Root’s hipbones from hitting her hat, she’s turned her face up at a bit of an angle which means she can’t take Root’s cock too deeply but it does look fucking great, and she’s pushing hard enough that the base of the dick is bumping up right against Root’s clit.

 

Root lets her lick and suck for a while, enjoying the way a flush rises in her cheeks and chest, the little whimpers that escape around Root’s dick, but eventually she needs a little more, and she flicks Shaw’s hat off onto the bed so she can grab her hair and really fuck into her mouth. Shaw groans and softens, letting Root slam into her, making little gasping noises through her nose. Root brings her free hand up to pinch at her nipples, the indica she smoked making all the sensations curl and double and fade in and out of each other, her whole body filled with tingles and sparks.

 

Shaw looks up at her, her eyes wide and hot, tears sparkling in them from the punishment her mouth is taking, and the look of it, the feel of the dick pushing against her swollen clit combined with a vicious pinch to her nipple is enough to send Root careening into her orgasm, holding Shaw’s face tight against her as she comes.

 

When she loosens her hand in Shaw’s hair, Shaw pulls back, coughing a little, and Root crumples down to the mattress and lays her head in Shaw’s lap while she recovers, her lover gasping and breathing heavily.

 

Root can smell how wet Shaw is, her arousal hanging thick and potent in the air, and she wants to taste it but Shaw’s too restrained to open her legs properly. With a groan, Root struggles up and around to untie Shaw, then Root pushes her back onto the bed and curls up between her legs, pressing her mouth against her pussy without any preamble.

 

Shaw bucks and moans, lifting her hips up desperately, and Root wedges her hands under Shaw’s thighs, pulling her lower body up and off the bed as she eats her. Root’s still breathing heavily from her own orgasm, she feels a little light headed and drifty, but Shaw is hot and needy against her mouth, slick and swollen, and Root feels like she needs to make her come more than she needs to breathe.

 

It doesn’t take long, Shaw grabs the headboard and comes shouting Root’s name into her own arm, choking on it as her pussy clenches and throbs against Root’s tongue.

 

Root savours it, draws it out, the hot taste of her, the soft moans as she licks over Shaw’s sensitive, twitching cunt.

 

“Oh, oh, fuck, Root... Root,” Shaw gasps, her legs relaxing and falling open, her body soft and malleable under Root’s hands. Her eyes are shut, and her chest is shiny with sweat, little pink marks from Root’s teeth tracking around her nipples.

 

She’s so fucking beautiful it takes Root’s breath away, and she sits up to just _look_ for a moment, until Shaw squirms like she knows all the focus is on her, and not in a pain-pleasure-sex-physicality way but in an emotional, mental pressure kind of way. Root strokes her thigh to let her know she knows Shaw has had enough of that, and then drags her fingers over Shaw’s drenched pussy, toying with the slick before pushing inside and feeling Shaw’s inner muscles tighten on her in greeting.

 

She fucks her with her fingers for a minute, just to feel it, and then wriggles up, reaches between them and guides her cock inside to replace her fingers.

 

Shaw whines, but lifts her hips up until Root’s settled flush against her, rolling her hips down slowly into Shaw’s body.

 

It’s slow, Root’s hands wrapped around Shaw’s wrists, her face pressed against Shaw’s cheek, telling her she’s gorgeous, and special, and talented and clever and good, oh, just so good, while she fucks her, drawn out and languorous.

 

Shaw comes three times on Root’s dick before she lets herself go over with her on the fourth, collapsing on top of Shaw still inside her, lying there heavy and sated and sweaty with sticky sugar somehow still between them, and contentment deep in her bones.

 

Root doesn’t know how long she stays there for before Shaw wriggles to be set free, but when they stumble groaning and sticky to the shower, it’s with dragging hands and little looks that make her feel warm and safe and home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can learn to make Prusik handcuffs [here](http://www.theduchy.com/ties.shtml). Also 10/10 recommend chuppa chups nips if you have an oral fixation and like candy like me :)
> 
> To see an amazing piece of fanart for this chapter, click [here](http://charcharcrap.tumblr.com/post/147737289890/suddenly-desperate-to-feel-that-soft-mouth-in-more)


	9. Your Maman is a Nerd

“Urgh,” Shaw twists around, trying to inspect her back in the mirror. Two of the bites Root inflicted on her the previous evening have bruised up properly, the rest are pretty subtle on Shaw’s brown skin. Root often thinks it’s fortunate that their tastes are the way around they are, because Root bruises like a peach and if she was into being held down like Shaw is then she’d have to invest in some kind of sweat-bands or bracelets to cover the bruising that would decorate her wrists almost permanently. 

 

“Just wear your wide strap tank,” she suggests, sliding up behind Shaw and pressing a kiss to the highest bruise, level with the top ridge of Shaw’s shoulderblade but closer in toward her spine. It’s an angry purple in a distinctly mouth-like shape. 

 

“It’s at the Casa,” Shaw complains, turning in Root’s arms and leaning back against the mirror, her lips are a little swollen from the blowjob last night, and she’s wearing lipstick to try to disguise it. Shaw hardly ever wears lipstick these days, mostly because it always ends up smeared all over Root somehow within  _ moments.  _ Root did just see a post going around tumblr claiming that Dita Von Teese’s lipstick line is blowjob proof, so maybe she will invest in some of that one of these days. Either way, Shaw’s red tinted lips are very enticing, but Root is not allowed to suck on them because Shaw has already had to redo her face twice and her hair once. 

 

“Oh, sorry?” Root doesn’t sound sorry at all, and Shaw huffs, exasperated.

 

“I’m gonna tell maman you’re a biter,” she threatens, and Root pulls a face. 

 

“You wouldn’t,” she declares, releasing Shaw and hunting through her shirt drawer.

 

“I would, and she would tease you about it  _ all day, _ ” Shaw snickers, tucking her thumbs into her jean short pockets. She’s is very cute today, in faded denim with the cuffs rolled up, and currently just her favourite kind of bra, a sports cut that still allows for a nice view of her cleavage.

 

“Wouldn’t that be teasing you as well? Here,” Root lobs a tshirt at Shaw, it’s one of her least nerdy options, as Shaw isn’t super partial to wearing any of Root’s epic collection of geek joke shirts for any reason except cozy. This shirt is off-white and plain except for a tiny Deathly Hallows logo on the breast that could be a band logo or something to anyone who doesn’t Know such things. 

 

Shaw grumbles but pulls it on, and the higher neck just about covers the bruise.

 

“Don’t pull that down at the back when your maman is behind you,” Root snickers and Shaw shoots her a very unimpressed look, so she arranges her face into something more contrite, “I can’t help it, but I am sorry, I didn’t mean to mark you up this weekend.”

 

“S’okay,” Shaw softens and tucks her shirt in, doing her broad black belt back up and grabbing her socks off the floor, sniff testing them before standing on one leg to pull them on. 

“I can’t believe the nerd museum is top of your mom’s to do list,” Root observes, finding some socks of her own. She’s wearing a pair of blue and cream printed shorts with a sleeveless denim button-up, and it pleases her immensely that she’s kind of matching Shaw. 

 

“Nerd museumS,” Shaw emphasises the plural, “she wants to do the EMP  _ and  _ the Air and Space today.”

 

“It’s the Museum of Flight,” Root teases, like Shaw hasn’t been there several times, and Shaw rolls her eyes.

 

“I got five hours sleep because you’re incapable of a quickie, Mr. Elaborate Sex Plans, and now I can’t wear my shirt because you also bit me, you’re on thin ice,” there’s a little smirk playing around the corner of her mouth though, and Root grins.

 

“It was a special occasion,” she points out, grabbing her purse and rummaging through it, checking she has all her things.

 

“It always is,” Shaw huffs in fake complaint, and a little warm spark bursts in Root’s chest, she doesn’t really think Shaw meant it like them being together is always special, but it feels that way anyway.

 

“You know it,” she grins, following Shaw out the bedroom door and locating her sunglasses on the kitchen counter, “to the nerd museumS!”

 

***

 

They pick Shaw’s mom up at her hotel, and Shaw sits in the back with her this time, taking the seat behind Root because of the ‘no leg space’ situation, even though Shaw’s maman is probably an inch shorter than Shaw herself. 

 

Root half-listens to Shaw telling her maman about her course, and her soccer tryouts, and their Eurotrip plans, admiring the way Reyhan navigates Shaw’s less-than-talkative tendencies. She thinks she does pretty well herself, and Shaw definitely puts in the effort and meets her halfway, but it is fascinating to see someone other than herself or Zoe prying information out of Shaw so subtly she doesn’t mind. 

 

Reyhan catches her eyes in the rearview mirror at one point, and gives her a wink, and Root marvels at the ease with which Reyhan’s accepted her, and welcomed her, not making Root feel awkward about the fact Shaw just assumed she would be joining her and her mother on the weekend’s entertainment. 

 

Reyhan can only stay until Monday afternoon, having an important meeting at her New York university on Tuesday, so they’re taking Saturday for museum trips and planning on wandering around downtown the following day with the Carters, although the weather forecast isn’t looking promising. 

 

Traffic is brutal, and Root taps her hands idly on the steering wheel, thinking about families and how different they can be. Her dad left when she was pretty young, and when she looked into him with her burgeoning computer skills in her early teens she found out he’d died in a drunk driving accident two years before, with no word ever coming to her or her ailing mother. 

 

When her mother passed away herself just after Root’s seventeenth birthday, it took her about an hour to decide there was no fucking way she was going into the system, and falsifying her birth records to age her out was a steep learning curve that taught her some useful tricks. She never actually bothered changing them back, so officially her ID lists her as nine months older than she actually is. 

 

She snorts softly as she realises that Shaw and potentially the whole Casa probably think her birthday is coming up next week, instead of having passed unnoticed a few months before. Without Hanna around to do something silly Root hadn't even realised she'd _actually_ turned twenty three instead of being fake about to turn twenty four. Wondering if that’s a conversation she should have with them, or at least Shaw, she pulls into the EMP parking area and finds a space. 

 

The EMP is great fun, they dick about with Shaw’s maman like she’s a good friend, and Root is blown away by the amount of fun she seems to be having. The stories of Shaw as a nerdy little kid—dressing up like Hercules, running around shirtless swinging a sword at trees, getting so excited for the new episode of Dr Who that her papa had to break the speed limit to get home in time, and other such things are a delightful bonus. Shaw puts up with it good naturedly for the most part, grumbling a bit but Reyhan is clearly a master in Shaw’s body language and moods and steers confidently through Shaw’s comfort zone in being the centre of attention for something not sport related. 

 

Root herself may let out an undignified shriek when they get to the Buffy memorabilia, Reyhan  _ loves  _ the horror movie section, and they all make a ‘character card’ on the generator game. Shaw gets ‘the Shadow’, much to her intense delight, Root gets the ‘Anti-Hero’, which is pretty sweet as far as she’s concerned, and Reyhan is very pleased with her ‘Iron Woman’ result. 

 

They take silly pictures in the light-speed tunnel installation and then head out to get some lunch. 

 

***

 

The Museum of Flight is also amazing, and Shaw is having almost as much fun watching Root’s nerdgasms as she is exploring the fairly familiar exhibits herself. Her mom and Root seems to be getting on really well, and Root is relaxing more and more in her company. She even swore at one point, which she does all the time when she’s relaxed and never when she’s watching herself. It’s pretty cute, not that Shaw would ever inform her of that. 

 

Maman is also having a good time, that massive nerd, and they’re all a bit tuckered out from a long day by the time they’ve had enough. The original plan was to go out for dinner somewhere, but Maman says she might be too tired for a restaurant and maybe she should head back for room service. 

 

Shaw doesn’t know if she should offer to go with her, or what, and then Root tentatively chimes in, “uh, you’re welcome to come back to our... my place and we could order takeaway?” 

 

“I’m too tired to make a U-Haul joke. Takeaway sounds perfect,” Reyhan smiles, glancing at Shaw, “if that’s okay with you, daughter?”

 

“Sure, maman. I’m tired too,” Shaw yawns, confirming her statement, and Root does a cute little smug face that Shaw rolls her eyes at. 

 

“Hungover?” Reyhan teases, linking arms with Root as they head out towards the car, “I thought you could hold your liquor better than that.”

 

“Just sleepy,” Shaw pokes her tongue out at her maman’s back.

 

“Don’t pull that face at me, child!” Her mom snarks and Shaw narrows her eyes, wondering what sixth sense her mother has. She  _ always  _ knows. 

 

The drive back is fairly quiet, and Shaw busies herself with trying to remember if there’s sex stuff scattered around the house. She thinks it’s fairly clean, there’s definitely lube and condoms in the cutlery drawer, and the bedroom is Off Limits but that’s fine anyway. 

 

They settle on Chinese food and Shaw orders as they walk up the stairs to Root’s... Almost ‘their’ apartment. That feels a little weird, but kind of good. Shaw will be officially ‘moving in’ just before they leave for their trip. Joss and Zoe have already found an apartment in the downtown area that they’ll take in September, and Harry and John are still house hunting. 

 

It makes the most sense for her to move in with Root, she’s there all the time anyway and it’s a big, spacious apartment with room for them both. It’s near to transit, and Shaw can use Root’s car as well, but she’s feeling a little awkward about the financial situation. Root has a tendency to just pay for things, but when Shaw complained about it Root just shrugged and says she likes to have nice things and doesn’t wanna make Shaw feel weird, but also doesn’t wanna stop living life the way she’s used to it. Then she showed Shaw her bank statement and Shaw agreed to let Root pay for stuff without arguing _too_ much, but definitely paying for gas and the things that are ‘hers’ like soccer gear. 

 

The apartment building is actually attached to a gym, so Shaw definitely plans on signing up there, she already took a tour and it’s a pretty cool facility. And she has access to all the City team’s facilities as well. 

 

Root’s been giving Reyhan a quick tour of the apartment, pointing out the view of the city, while Shaw’s been lost in thought about moving in. Shaw sits down on Root’s couch and thinks about how it is ‘their’ couch now, and then remembers how much sex they’ve had on it and snickers to herself thinking about marking territory.

 

Root gives her a little eyebrow twitch and Shaw schools her face into innocence. 

 

“So, movie with dinner?” Reyhan suggests, sitting down on the couch next to Shaw and pulling the convenient blanket over her knees, while Root busies herself getting plates and cutlery out in anticipation of the delivery arriving. 

 

“Yep,” Shaw agrees, “beer me, Root.”   
  
“Uh, pale or saison?” Root inquires, opening the fridge.

 

“Saison for me,” Reyhan declares, just as Shaw requests a pale ale, and Root snickers, grabbing them both a beer and filling a glass with white wine for herself. 

 

She pads over and scoots Shaw til she’s in the middle so she can join them on the couch, handing the drinks over, “whaddya wanna watch?” She asks Reyhan, clicking the TV on and scrolling to Netflix.

 

“You have any horror movies in your list?” Reyhan takes a mouthful of her beer and sighs happily.

 

Root snorts, amused, and flicks through until she finds Hush, “we’ve been meaning to watch this for a while,” she lets the information pop up, and Reyhan nods enthusiastically. 

 

“Perfect!”

 

“Sure you’re not gonna get too scared in that hotel room all by yourself, maman?” Shaw teases, sipping her beer.

 

“Oh, child, don’t go teasing me or I’ll tell Root about the IT incident,” Shaw looks horrified and clams up immediately.

 

“How much do I have to bribe you to tell me that story?” Root inquires, taking a mouthful of her wine and then the buzzer goes, so she slides off the couch to let the delivery guy in.

 

“Uh, one order of Kung Pao Chicken and some special fried rice... and a beer...” Reyhan giggles as Root takes the food and starts dishing up.

 

“Done!” Root announces, and Shaw grumbles about awful stories she could tell as she trudges off to the bathroom, hearing her maman start the story of Shaw sneaking out of bed with a friend to watch IT when they were seven, and requiring Shaw’s papa to check her wardrobe for clowns for the next six months before she could go to sleep properly. 

 

She takes a minute to clear the sex stuff away, just in case her maman wanders into Root’s room by accident or something, and then pees, looking at her toothbrush in the holder by the sink. It’s been there for months, Root just adding little things to her apartment that made Shaw’s life easier. She smiles and taps the two toothbrushes on the head before wandering back into the living room and flopping back onto the couch. 


	10. The Things That Make Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part of Grad, Shaw and her maman go for lunch.

Shaw pulls into the ‘pick up only’ spot outside her mom’s hotel, and thumbs a message out to Root while she waits. 

Shaw @ Root // still on for tonight? //

Root @ Shaw // 34672.jpg //

Shaw’s breath catches at the image as it pops up on her phone, but she barely has time to take in the toys laid out on the bedside table, the red ropes draped around the curling metal headboard and the clean black sheets on the bed before the passenger door opens and her mom jumps in the front seat. She drops her phone in a mixture of shock and an epic lack of coordination due to surprise horniness. 

Reyhan catches the phone smoothly and hands it back to Shaw, raising an eyebrow, “something tells me that was a message from Root,” she teases in Farsi, clipping her belt on and Shaw growls as she starts the car. 

“Maman,” it’s almost a whine, and Shaw pulls a face, realising how childish she sounds. 

“Sameeeen,” her maman whines back at her, merrily, and Shaw rolls her eyes as she pulls the car out of the hotel driveway and onto the main road. They’re going to get lunch in town together, just them, before Shaw goes to sign her contract with the City team and then drops Reyhan off at the train station. 

“So, Zoe bet me fifty bucks I couldn’t get any information about how you and Root started dating out of you. Wanna spill and split the pot?” Speaking in English this time, Reyhan rummages through her purse, maybe looking for something, but definitely not looking at Shaw. 

Shaw doesn’t respond for a minute, shifting gears smoothly as she pulls into downtown traffic, “I don’t mind, if you want to ask me stuff about her,” she says carefully, “I, uh, I’m moving in with her. Next week. When we have to move out of the Casa. I was gonna be moving for med school, you know, and Joss and Zoe has already found an apartment by the time I deferred. And I can’t afford to live by myself...I’m gonna miss Bear, but I can’t exactly live with Finch and Reese forever....”   


Reyhan pats her hand, cutting off her ramble, “you don’t have to justify your choices to me, Sameen,” the unspoken ‘you never have,’ hangs in the air for a moment before she keeps talking, “I like her. She’s funny, and smart. And I don’t know what she did to Mark’s credit cards but the expression on his face...” she chuckles.

Shaw can’t stifle a little grin, checking the rearview, “she blocked them, got bored of him showing off.”

“I’ll never understand how an idiot with a head that big raised such a nice girl,” Reyhan pulls down her visor and checks her makeup in the mirror.

“He was never home, it’s all her mom,” Shaw pulls into a parking lot and takes her ticket out of the machine before finding a space. 

“You’ve made such good friends here,” her mom slips out of the car and smooths her coat down, “it’s so wonderful to see you so content.”

They don’t really use the word ‘happy’ for Shaw in her house, after a teenage screaming match with her uncle. ‘Content’ works, Shaw understands contentment. She always thinks of it as a lack of wanting anything, needing anything she doesn’t have, and yeah, she’d describe herself as pretty content, these days.

“I am,” she agrees, slamming her door and locking the car.

“And you leave in nine days?” Maman starts walking towards the carpark entrance.

“Yeah, I’m literally moving in and then we’re flying out the next day,” Shaw grins, she’s actually really excited about their vacation, having never really been to Europe besides a trip to London when she was a child. 

“I can’t believe all six of you get to go together, it’s going to be such a good time!” Her mom declares, waiting for Shaw to lead the way out of the carpark as she doesn’t know where they’re going for lunch. “And you know.. If things don’t work out with Root, or it gets hard living together, I’ll help you out until you get on your feet and find a roommate. Don’t stay somewhere that isn't right for you.”

“I won’t, maman. But I’m sure if we ever did break up Root would probably just buy me a house or something to tide me over. She’s stupid rich,” Shaw snarks.

“But not stupid-stupid, thank goodness.” Reyhan snickers, “those lunk-heads you used to hang out with after school made me wonder if you liked them stupid...”

Shaw snorts, “well, there wasn’t a lot of crossover available in terms of brains and brawn in highschool. Plus, Rob had that sweet sound system in his pickup,” she points at the restaurant they’re headed too, a little tapas place Joss recommended, and they cross the street.

“Ah, a sound system. Definitely a solid basis for a relationship,” her maman teases.

Shaw waits til they’ve been seated before she screws up the inner calm to bring the conversation back to Root. She can completely understand her mom wanting to know more, and god knows Shaw isn’t exactly forthcoming over email, “Root was working for Harold last fall, and she ended up at one of our soccer practices?” She hates that it’s a question, but forges forwards anyway, her mom’s encouraging expression helping a little, “then I dunno, Zoe got it into her head that Root and I should go out, you know what she's like, so she invited Root to a party thing at our house and yeah, I guess we hit it off,” _and we fucked and it was spectacular and then Root got shot saving my life, resulting in that nasty scar I saw you eyeing up on graduation day when she wasn’t looking, and we kind of moved in together a little bit, also she’s amazing in bed and can kind of read my mind,_ she doesn’t add.

“And I heard she’s amazing in bed,” Reyhan interjects mildly, and Shaw just about drops her water glass in shock. Her mom cracks up laughing, losing hold of her straight face, “Zoe told me to say that! She was right, your expression is  _ priceless _ .” 

Shaw makes an inarticulate noise and hides her face behind her newly delivered beer glass in order to give herself a second. 

“It’s good to have passion, Sameen,” her mom snickers at her, “I could tell you some stories about your father...”   
  
Shaw puts her glass down and her fingers in her ears, and her mom relents, nodding so Shaw knows the epic tease is over. She can feel the heat in her cheeks. 

“But really, I see the way you look at each other. I’m so happy for you,” Reyhan taps the table in the way they’ve done since Shaw was little, it means a no contact hug, and Shaw taps the table back in reply. 

There’s a few minutes of silence, where Shaw doesn’t really know what to say, but her mom is relaxed and there’s no pressure in the air, and then their food arrives and they both scarf down huge sandwiches. Her mom can’t quite match Shaw for appetite, but she’s definitely no slouch, and there are only a few stray french fries on her plate when she pushes it back, defeated. Shaw obligingly scoops them onto her plate and makes quick work of them. 

Her mom watches her with a faintly pleased look, like she’s satisfied in some way Shaw doesn’t quite understand. Maybe she’s just thinking about Root still. 

Shaw watched her parents, when she was growing up. She knows how gross in love they were, and how much they liked each other. It was kind of nice, being the kid who’s parents actually fucking  _ liked  _ each other. They’d hold hands when they were out, and they’d make jokes with these stupid, soft looks on their faces. Shaw knows that her mom misses her dad, and she guesses she does too. 

‘Missing’ someone is a weird concept for Shaw. When people aren’t around she usually doesn’t think about them all that much. She emails her mom when she remembers that’s a thing she should do, but she doesn’t, like, sit around and think about what things would be like if she was around. Shaw’s never really had anyone she’s actually missed and thought about when they weren’t there. But with Root, sometimes she’ll see something funny, or whatever, and then think it would be better if Root was there to share it with. She guesses maybe it’s like that. 

It must be hard for her mom, without her dad around anymore. It’s been almost a decade, and she’s never even known her mom to go on a date, but, she supposes, it’s possible she just doesn’t know about it. 

Shaw looks like her dad, in the pictures of him when he was young, pre-puberty, they almost could have been twins until their faces changed. She wonders, suddenly, if it was hard for her mom to look at her after he died, but she can’t remember. 

“Deep thoughts?” Her mom inquires, placing her credit card on top of the bill and positioning the little plate at the side of the table.

“I was thinking about dad,” Shaw replies, in Farsi, after a moment.

“He’d be so proud of you, Sameen. Like I am,” her mom responds in the same language, with a gentle look on her face, affection she usually tempers down a bit shining clear for a moment, Shaw shifts in her chair, uncomfortable at the sheer level of emotion, and her mom picks up her beer and finishes the last sip, letting the moment dissipate. 

Shaw goes to the bathroom, because that’s easier than trying to figure out what to say. She thinks she wants to tell her mom that she’s sorry, but she’s not sure what for. For not being better when her dad died, maybe—but she was just a teenager and kids are fucking useless, so it’s not like that was her fault—for the fact that he died at all, and left her mom on her own. But she knows that her mom wouldn’t give up the twenty years she’d had with Shaw’s dad for anything.   

She sighs, looking at herself in the mirror. She can still see him in her face, and she knows there are parts of him in her in other ways, in her love for sport and animals, in the ease she picks up languages, in the art she makes. 

She washes her hands, and heads back to the table. She might paint her mom a picture, she thinks. Something that can try to show how much she appreciates her parents, and the tools they gave her, the things they taught her. Yeah. A painting of her and her dad. Her mom will like that, she decides.   
  
Her mom is waiting by the cafe exit, and they amble towards the center of town, still with twenty minutes before Shaw has to sign her paperwork. Her mom nudges her shoulder affectionately while they walk in silence, and Shaw relaxes properly, nudges her back. The sun slides out from behind a fluffy grey cloud, washing the pavement in front of them in gold. 


	11. Til You Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the kinkiest thing I've written. **Please check the warnings**. I wrote it in response to dozens of people requesting a drop fic (which is after this) so it is pretty extreme and I advise caution. Remember, you can always skip the smut and not miss the storyline!
> 
> If you've been directed here by someone who would like you to be Furious at me for writing kink, please bear in mind the following:  
> 1) These characters are fictional  
> 2) These characters are neurodivergent  
> 3) These characters have been in an established relationship for a period of time before this one shot  
> 4) I have written 200k prior to this developing their relationship, developing their communication and developing their consent  
> 5) Canonically Shaw has an an immensely high pain tolerance  
> 6) BDSM should always have limits. These kids have limits, their limits are very established. In fact, I have even written a safe word scene between them.  
> 7) If you have questions about kink that you are able to phrase in a non aggressive way I am happy to answer them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **content warning** : bdsm, collar, choking, biting, wax play, knives, buttplay, feeldoe, feeldoe in the buttplay, digital penetration, strap on fucking, scratching, beatings, crops, spanking, ear play, forced orgasm

As Root looks down, she can’t compress the smug smile twitching at the corner of her mouth—Shaw is lying on her front, her hips resting on a solid pillow so she’s a little raised in the middle, spread-eagled with her wrists and ankles restrained with a new silk rope. It’s a bright red that shines like blood against her soft skin. Later, there will be actual blood to match it. Tonight is a blades night.

 

Shaw looks simply amazing, spread out with her face just visible, her cheek pressed into the pillow. Her loose hair is curling soft and dark over her shoulder where Root tucked it out the way just moments ago, so she could wrap the light brown leather collar around Shaw’s neck and buckle it. The gold D-ring on the back of the collar is standing proud, and Root can’t resist the urge to lean over and hook her index finger through it, tugging lightly, immediately rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

 

“Oh, lover, you look so good,” her voice is silky and dangerous even in her own ears, and she watches, fascinated, as a trail of goose-flesh suddenly prickles across Shaw’s shoulders. Root grins, pleased with the response, “I’m gonna fuck you up so good tonight.” She lets her mind trip back to Shaw asking her for this—asking if they could clear their schedule and take a night for Root to break her in half. She got wet just at the look on Shaw's face, that slightly uncomfortable-with-making-requests but oh so needy look. Her agreement was out of her mouth before she'd even started to make a plan. It’s been a busy week for the two of them, with Graduation and Shaw’s maman visiting as well as finalising plans for their trip next month. It’s gonna be good for both of them to have an intense night together, reconnect. 

 

Shaw murmurs something soft and syrupy into the mattress without moving her head, Root thinks it might have been ‘please’. She plants a wet kiss full of teeth onto Shaw’s shoulder, sucking on the flesh and digging in until she swears she can feel the individual fibers of muscle against her pushing tongue.

 

It makes her grin against Shaw’s warm shoulder blade when Shaw squirms, pushing down, rolling her hips against the pillow just a little. She’s not desperate, not yet, just _eager_. She’s only been tied up for fifteen minutes or so, while Root wandered around, setting things up and making her wait in equal amounts. There is a wax-play jug on the bedside table, next to toys laid out on the leather placemat she likes to use as a display piece. One of her favorite knives, the rippled, beaten steel boot-knife she found in a flea market last summer, lies with its blade raised up on a black and silver crop. Her mouth waters a little at the thought of the noises Shaw's going to make when she hits her.

 

Deciding it’s time to get going, albeit slowly—she wants Shaw begging and crying and whimpering tonight—she wants it to last, Root swings her leg over Shaw’s hip and settles down, rubbing her naked pussy against Shaw’s warm skin with a soft sigh of pleasure.

 

Shaw shivers a little under her, ripples of muscle standing proud for a split second in her powerful back, and Root leans down to trace them with her mouth, tugging gently on her collar and then harder, harder again, enough to make Shaw buck involuntarily as her body protests the restraint—a choked sound bubbling out of her when Root squeezes even tighter. The collar’s wide enough to safely compresses her arteries, but also her airway, and Root is careful with how much pressure she exerts, cataloging every tiny shift Shaw makes under her until she releases the D-ring and Shaw melts back onto the mattress, gasping for air with sounds that aren’t quite sobs. Yet. But they will be. Root's personal aim for the evening is to make Shaw cry. Not just eyes watering from pain, but actual tears. It's good to have goals.

 

Root grins against her skin and digs her teeth into the soft flesh covering the curve of her shoulder. Shaw’s gonna wear these bite marks for days. She hums happily into her mouthful and pulls on the collar again. Shaw cries out, soft and choked, her hips pushing down into the pillow under her.

 

Working up and down her back, Root takes her time, choking Shaw out to the very limit of her endurance, seeing her fingers twitch and flick and snatch at nothing, watching her features swell and flush then fade back to their normal shade. She leaves stamps from her teeth all over Shaw’s shoulders and arms, vicious dents that will smooth to red lines, then raise, leaving braille-like bumps that say ‘you’re mine, you’re mine.’

 

In the background, crooning, slow music does nothing to hide the noises Shaw makes as she squirms, her skin heating under Root’s hands and mouth until she’s covered in a light sheen of sweat as well as the coalescing bruising. Root makes a forward slash of hickies from Shaw's left hip to her right shoulder, sucking eagerly on the salty, warm skin between her teeth.

 

When she slides her fingertips between Shaw's legs she's not in the least surprised to find her completely drenched, but she still exhales in pleasure at the sensation, dipping into Shaw for just a moment before pulling back and away to a quiet whimper of loss.

 

She gets up, slipping off the bed, running her hand between her own legs and humming as arousal sparks through her, demanding and bright in her veins. The feeldoe is already washed, on the clean mat, so it doesn't take Root more than a moment to grab it, some lube, and a glove. She makes sure Shaw can't see what she's doing.

 

Glove on, Root slides a cold, slick finger slowly between Shaw's asscheeks, making her clench and whine something under her breath. Root pushes in determinedly, one finger, then two, then finally three, plenty of lube but rough enough that Shaw tenses and shakes, has to force herself to relax around Root's fingers. 

 

She pets her side gently in reward as she warms her up a bit, "I'm not totally sure this is going to work," Root declares, after pulling out and yanking her glove off. She rolls a condom over the bulb end of the feeldoe, "but I do so like trying new things. And I’m always happy to innovate," she pushes the condom wrapped end of the feeldoe against Shaw's asshole, and Shaw groans something into the pillow and bites down on it, clearly anticipating a rough entry. Just to mess with her, Root pushes in slowly, gently, until it's firmly seated, the dick standing up at a sharp angle, laying almost flat against Shaw’s buttcheeks, following the line of her spine.

 

Shaw wriggles her legs open as far as she can, breathing heavily through her nose, but tilting her hips a little. Root clicks the vibration on and Shaw freezes, a choked 'fuck' squeezing past her lips as she buries her face in the pillow and writhes uncomfortably.

 

Root grins happily at the sight, swings her leg over Shaw's hip and lays down on top of her, careful not to jar the dick  _ too  _ much as she settles down pressed against it. It's not inside her, she's not into that, and the angle would suck anyway—no give in the rigid cock, but she pushes her clit against the vibrating silicone with a sigh of pleasure and rolls her hips down, pinning Shaw with her body, wrapping hands around her biceps for leverage as she wriggles on top of her. "Well, I'm a genius," she pants out, gliding slick and wet and easy up and down the vibrator. Shaw moans and twists, muscles flexing under Root's firm hands, her skin losing colour where Root’s fingers are squeezing hard.

 

“Mm, yeah, baby, squirm for me,” she murmurs, pressing her face into Shaw’s overheated neck and biting at the leather of her collar, sticking her tongue underneath it and lapping at Shaw’s tendons, making her cry out and shiver, “I’m gonna come all over you, just like this, and then I’m gonna stick a plug in your ass while I beat the shit out of you, and you’re gonna say thank you, aren’t you?” She hums it, right into Shaw’s skin.

 

“Yuh.. yeah,” It’s a strangled moan, thick with lust. Shaw’s hips are working hard against the pillow, and Root digs teeth into her earlobe in reprimand, “but you’re not gonna come, are you? Cause you haven’t got permission, and I know you wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

 

“Ah, oh, fuck, yeah. Yeah Root, please, I wanna be good,” Shaw whines, turning her head a little in the way that means she wants kisses, but doesn’t know if she’s allowed them, and Root shifts up so she can bite at Shaw’s mouth, swallowing her little sigh of pleasure.

 

Eventually her orgasm’s too close to keep leaning down and kissing her, so Root holds herself up with her arms to thrust. Her biceps are looking pretty great and she wishes she had a mirror set up so she could see herself, or a camera so she could show Shaw later. The contrast of her milky skin against Shaw’s warm brown always gets her motor revving, and she presses down against her as best she can, looking down their bodies as she pushes against the dick, circling her hips a little and pressing her forehead against Shaw’s shoulder as she lines up just perfectly and the vibrations shudder through her clit. 

 

“Fuck, Sameen,” she breathes out into her neck, “you’re so good. So obedient. You feel so good underneath me, so strong,” Shaw flexes like it’s a command, changing the angle of her hips a little and making Root let out a groan. She bears down harder, and Shaw lifts to meet her, clearly trying to help and it’s so hot on top of her with that power under her hands that Root can barely breathe with it. She sets her jaws around Shaw’s trapezius and grunts her pleasure out as it builds and builds, finally cresting, surging through her in a shuddering wave that leaves her gasping breathlessly into Shaw’s neck, unable to support her own weight. 

 

Shaw whines and wriggles, maybe at the pressure of Root lying on top of her, trapping her with the feeldoe shoved into her uncomfortably, but Root doesn’t have the energy to move for a second so she just stays there, panting, with her sweaty cheek pressed against Shaw’s shoulder.

 

Under her, Shaw settles, but Root can feel her ass clenching against her own hips. She summons the energy to worm off, lying on her back and leaning her head on Shaw’s bicep, staring at the ceiling while she recovers.    
  
Shaw makes little breathy noises into the pillow, clearly trying to control herself, it makes Root smile. She runs her hand down her own body idly, enjoying the tingles, and then rolls herself upright.

 

“You wanna start with wax, or blades, baby?” Shaw makes a strangled sound and Root smirks, taps the length of the feeldoe that’s still buzzing away merrily in Shaw’s ass, and then turns it off.

 

She pulls it out slowly, replacing it with a buttplug that sadly doesn’t vibrate, but does make Shaw wriggle pleasantly as it goes in. The feeldoe would get in the way of Root’s plans. 

 

“Oh, silly me, you _hate_ making decisions,” she drags her fingernails down Shaw’s sensitive back, pressing deliberately into some bruising, feeling the heat packed under Shaw’s skin, “both it is.”    
  
Shaw sighs softly and lifts her hips into Root’s hand, and Root pats her gently in reward, making sure she can reach her toys before swinging her leg back over Shaw’s hip and settling down, grinding her wetness into Shaw’s ass cheeks happily. 

 

She lights a wide candle in a jug first, balances it on Shaw’s shoulder and picks up her knife, absently flicking her nail against the blade with a metallic ting, “better stay still, lover, or that candle’s gonna spill all over you, and that’s not a safe dropping distance,” there’s a note of mischief in her voice, and Shaw tenses slightly making the candle wobble, and then she deliberately relaxes all her muscles into stillness. It’s not  _ actually _ a dangerous distance, if the wax spills it’ll hurt like fuck, but it’s a proper play candle with a low melting point and won’t leave scars even from that close. 

 

Root braces her hand on Shaw’s spine and lowers the blade. 

 

She knows all the tricks; he-back-of-the-blade-instead-of-the-sharp trick, the press-against-where-she’s-already-sore trick, the scratch-with-the-blade-and-then-press-with-the-back-of-the-knife-into-the-light-wound trick, the nick-her-and-press-the-ball-of-your-thumb-against-it trick, and she hums happily along with the music as she puts them to good use, reducing Shaw to a shivering, over-sensitive mess covered in small marks that shouldn’t scar as long as they’re looked after properly. 

 

Then she stands up to drop wax close enough to the patterns she’s drawn that Shaw can’t tell the difference, must feel like it’s right over the cuts. She lets out a soft scream into her pillow. 

 

Rinse, repeat. Root goes through an entire forty minute playlist digging the tip of her knife in, smearing thin streaks of blood down Shaw’s back, and standing to pour scalding wax over her until she looks like Jackson Pollock had a red and black only phase. Shaw’s pressing her face into the pillow, but her back is shaking lightly, her hands wrapped so firmly around the silk restraining her that the bedframe keeps creaking. 

 

Root pinches the candle out without telling Shaw, leaves her with wax hardened on her back and goes to take a shower. When she gets back, Shaw’s relaxed into it, the candle still balanced between her shoulder blades. Root makes a show out of blowing out the already-extinguished candle before moving it onto the bedside table, so Shaw can feel like she did a good job. When it’s out the way, she sits down next to Shaw, playing with her hair gently. Shaw shivers at the touches, turns her head so she can face Root. 

 

There are tear tracks on her flushed cheeks, and the pillow is damp under her face. It makes Root warm with pride and arousal. She wriggles down until she can press kisses to Shaw’s hot forehead, making her sigh and close her eyes in pleasure. 

 

Once she’s happy with how relaxed Shaw is against her, Root starts picking the wax off carefully, discarding it into the waste basket by the bed. Shaw stays fairly pliant through the proceeding, although it must be sore pulling free from her tender skin. Root admires the resulting, blotchy patches of pink with smug pleasure, stroking her hands gently down Shaw’s muscular back, petting her happily. She brushes her down with a towel when she’s relatively clean, getting the last of it.

 

When she reaches between Shaw’s legs, her lover cries out, lifting into the touch. She’s soaked and swollen, her clit slippery and hard against Root’s fingers as she rubs her with long, slow movements. Shaw shivers and gasps, cocking her hips up, and Root squirms closer to her side so she can press against Shaw’s warm hip, watch her face. She’s open mouthed and panting, her lip swollen from biting down on it, her cheeks lined with creases from the fabric she’s been pressed against. It’s so fucking sexy Root can’t resist rolling her hips against Shaw’s side, grinding her clit onto Shaw’s hipbone as she touches her.

 

She pushes inside achingly slowly, feeling the scalding heat of Shaw’s desperate pussy clenching and grabbing on her fingers as she rubs firmly against her swollen gspot, “mmm, sugar, you can come for me, you’ve earned in,” she murmurs, rubbing, rubbing, feeling the soft ridges of tissue under her fingertips.

 

Shaw moans, long and drawn out, pressing her whole body into Root’s hand as best she can with the ties around her wrists, Root watches her, fascinated, as Shaw’s first orgasm of the night rolls through her. Her whole face screws tight as she starts to come, and then smooths out as her orgasm rocks her, her mouth open, she’s stopped breathing completely as she clenches on Roots fingers. After a moment, she inhales with a violent, shuddering gasp, opens her eyes and finds Root immediately, her pupils contracting as they make eye contact. Root smiles at her, presses her lips against Shaw’s skin, peppering her with light kisses as she slowly pulls her fingers out and cups Shaw’s whole pussy in the palm of her hand.

 

“Good girl,” she breathes out, and Shaw twitches against her fingers. Root snickers and presses a last kiss to her shoulder before rolling onto her back and grabbing the Rodeoh harness she left on the other side of the bed. She’s set up and inside Shaw before the smaller girl is done breathing heavily. Root leans her weight down on top of her, thrusts hard and fucks Shaw through the mattress. 

 

Under her, Shaw writhes and after a few moments of limp panting starts trying to lift up into Root’s violent fucking, but Root pins her down with her hands on Shaw’s hips, digging her nails in and leaving vicious little dents while her whole body weight is driving her dick into Shaw’s pussy. She can feel the base of the buttplug pressing against her pubic bone, she’s probably gonna bruise from the contact, and Shaw must be feeling it pretty hard. 

 

Shaw’s crying out with every downward movement, fingers dug into the pillow by her head, and she yelps as Root digs her teeth into her neck, “oh, fuck, Root, can I come, god, please can I come?” below the collar

“Again? Hmm,” Root pants out, letting go of her mouthful to reply, “you’re so spoiled, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, uhn, fuck,” Shaw gasps, muffled as she shifts back into Root’s body, “please, Root, please.”  
  
  
“Wait for me,” Root instructs, and Shaw makes a noise somewhere between a whine and a growl, presses her face into the pillow as she props herself on her forearms a little.

The tiny bits of wax that Root didn’t manage to clean off are scratchy irritants between them, but the slick of sweat counters it. Shaw’s little cuts must be stinging like hell, and Root groans at the thought of it, the little wounds aggravated by the salty slide. Root comes with a soft yell, digging her fingers into Shaw’s biceps and circling her hips slowly, grinding through it and Shaw tenses and shudders under her, rocked by her own orgasm even as Root drags out the sensations by pulling back and thrusting deep inside one more time. 

Shaw’s still shaking when Root pulls out and sits back on her heels, admiring the mess she made of Shaw’s back and the mess Shaw has made on her dick. Shaw’s panting for breath, gasping into the cotton, and Root strokes down her back with both hands, toying with her before unsteadily sliding off and yanking the sticky dildo out of the Rodeohs without taking them off. 

She leans a hand on Shaw’s shoulder for balance and comfort as she finds an alcoholic wipe and tears the package open with her teeth, “pain incoming,” she murmurs, because Shaw literally  _ just  _ came and is possibly not operating on all cylinders in terms of figuring out what that ripping sound meant. 

Every muscle in Shaw’s body stands taut as Root rubs her down with the stinging wipe, cleaning her cuts and getting the last of the wax at the same time. She hums quietly as she does so, and by the end of the rub down, Shaw’s flopped limp on the mattress, tension melted out of her. 

After wiping down her own front, speckled with blood and wax-crumbs, Root smacks Shaw's ass, making her jump, “well, your back looks great but I seem to have missed a spot,” she thwaps at Shaw’s buttcheek again. Shaw moans agreeably. 

Shuffling down the bed, Root lets her ankle restraints out a foot or so, and manhandles Shaw until she’s on her knees, spread forwards still over a couple of pillows, “how about we even that up?” She asks, rhetorically, and Shaw mumbles something quiet and thick that Root can’t make out. It’s not ‘red’ or ‘yellow’ though, too many syllables, so it doesn’t really matter. The buttplug needs to come out before Root further indulges her violent instincts, so she strokes Shaw’s ass cheek in warning, grips it between two fingers and eases it out, swallowing the little noise of pleasure that wants to come out as it pops clear. She discards it on the tea towel left on the floor for this specific purpose. 

Then she takes a minute to lean against Shaw’s sweaty side and grab a bottle of gatorade. She downs half of it before pulling the lid off, putting a straw in it, and angling it so Shaw can reach. She sucks it down greedily, making pleased noises in the back of her throat that make Root clench and lick her lips. 

“You need to piss before I beat you like I’m making omelette?” She inquires, cupping one of Shaw’s delectable buttcheeks. They are a little like ostrich eggs, she thinks, amused by her own jokes.

“I’m okay,” Shaw mutters, letting the straw slip clear. It scatters a few droplets of blue liquid onto Root’s black pillow case, and she hums disapprovingly, pointing at the wet spots one by one.

“Someone’s bucking for further corporal punishment,” she smirks, leaning over to lick Shaw’s bicep, cause her back will taste like alcohol swab now and that’s gross. 

Shaw whines but doesn’t protest the somewhat unfair ruling, and Root sets her bottle down out of danger, under the bed.

“Current scale of one to ten?” She asks, sliding off the bed and padding towards the bathroom, peeing with the door open.

“Six?” Shaw hazards weakly, as Root wipes off and washes her hands. 

She wants to go to eight tonight, she thinks. They’ve moved their scaling, now only ten is red, seven to nine is yellow, which means Shaw is still in the green even after being cut and scalded. She must be feeling really tough tonight, Root muses on her way back. She’d have put Shaw at a seven, currently. 

“Okay, soldier, deep breaths and count for me,” she takes the crop off the bedside table and swishes it through the air. Shaw very deliberately doesn’t flinch, and Root slides the flat leather tip between her legs, thwapping lightly at her inner thighs. These don’t count, so Shaw doesn’t count, just pants softly through her nose in anticipation. 

The first blow lands sweet and perfect on the crest of Shaw’s left buttcheek, leaving a triangular pink mark with clear edges. “One,” Shaw moans.

Root really likes this crop. The end is like a slap, meaning Shaw can take a fair amount of power from it, but Root can use the shaft if she wants to make line patterns. She’s gonna cycle though in sets, five leather for each cheek, five shaft, leather, shaft. Shaw trembles and grunts as the blows land, the swish-thwack rhythmic and pleasing to Root’s ears, coupled with her lover’s gasped numbers. She’s good at counting for Root, Shaw is, never once losing the number in all the times Root has tried to make her.

Her ass is a patchwork of pink-splatches and darker red-blue lines by the time Root releases her ankles and rolls her over. She’s crying slowly, the tears rolling down her cheeks are the involuntary kind, and Root leans down to clean her grubby little face off with her mouth. Shaw whimpers and turns her head desperately, begging for kisses, and Root slides her hand under her head, kisses her slow and deep and comforting as Shaw settles into the pain of lying on her injured ass and upper thighs. 

Root slips her hand down Shaw’s stomach, pushes three fingers into her, and pumps them in and out, slow and deep while they kiss, until Shaw cries out into her mouth and clenches on her hand, a long, langorous orgasm rolling through her in wave after wave. Eventually, melting, she lies back limply, unable to kiss any more. 

Stroking Shaw’s strong, compact body while she recovers, Root revels in the opportunity to do some fine, first-degree perving. Shaw’s front is relatively untouched, there are a few scrapes dappling her hipbones where Root yanked her into her dick, fingerprint bruises coming up slowly on her biceps, almost too faint to see for now, and her face is mussed and pink. She looks debauched, but not damaged, from this angle. 

Root reties her ankles with her face up and settles on her stomach between Shaw's legs. There’s not enough space for Root’s body proper, so she has to keep her legs bent and in the air, crossed ankles. It feels hilariously schoolgirl, for a moment, and she laughs softly as she bends down to press her mouth against Shaw’s muscular inner thigh. She sucks softly, the smell of Shaw’s arousal so thick and potent in the air it coats her throat, making her shiver in pleasure. 

Shaw moans quietly, pushing her knee against Root’s side and Root leans into her, sucking a mark into Shaw’s soft skin and then closing her teeth over it. Delicately, at first, she increases pressure until her teeth compress the flesh, leaving a vivid red set of teeth marks when she releases. Shaw grunts, her leg flopping back to the bed.

Trailing bite marks and soft kisses up and down Shaw’s inner thighs, Root slides her own hand between her legs, rubbing her clit in firm circles as the sensation of flesh giving under her teeth cranks her engine higher and higher. She comes, gasping, with a mouthful of Shaw’s pubic mound, digging her teeth in hard enough to make Shaw cry out and try to flinch away. 

Root releases her reluctantly, leans her head on Shaw’s sweaty thigh, breathes with her in tandem as Shaw blinks her eyes open, dishevelled and pink, with hair stuck to her forehead. Once she’s stopped pulsing, Root squirms up to tidy it away, pull Shaw’s hair off her hot, sticky neck and tuck it above her. Shaw sighs in relief, leans into her hand. Her face is dazed and soft, the pain-pleasure of the evening has spun her off her axis, turning her malleable, plaint. Root loves Shaw like this, weak for her, soft. She trails kisses across Shaw’s face, pressing against her temple. It’s so hot it feels like it’s scalding her lips. Shaw takes the gatorade straw eagerly when she offers it.

“Okay?” Root asks, stroking Shaw’s eyebrow with her thumb, and Shaw nods, butts into her touch. She sometimes goes non -verbal when she’s really sunk into her body, except when Root demands she speak. Root can tell she’s in a no-words place. She can feel the affectionate smile on her face as she leans down to lick at the delicate shell of Shaw’s ear. 

She sucks on her earlobe, tugs on the piercings, sliding her tongue slowly up the rim of cartilage. Shaw’s eyes roll back in Root’s peripheral vision, and she hides her smirk behind Shaw’s ear, lapping at the curve of bone and down to the tendon. The silk ropes tighten as Shaw tugs gently against her restraints, turning her head for Root’s access, and Root basically goes down on the space behind Shaw’s ear, the soft lobe, basking in the way it makes Shaw shiver and tense and whine. Shaw’s weak for her ears, when she’s turned on. They get super sensitive and Root loves playing with them. She thinks she could probably make Shaw come just by playing with her ears and nipples, if she really focused on it. Especially if Shaw was a bit high. She remembers the time Shaw got off basically  _ just  _ on having her bottom lip thoroughly sucked with great affection. 

Root hums happily and pulls back when Shaw starts tensing her leg muscles rhythmically, taps her sternum with two fingers and Shaw reluctantly relaxes. Root detangles herself from the sticky pile of Shaw, and wriggles back between her thighs, sitting cross-legged, “twenty for each, I think,” she muses, shaking her hand out preparatorily. Shaw moans and opens her legs wider. 

Root doesn’t ask her to count this time, just slaps her inner thighs with her palm, alternating back and forth. She does a better job breaking blood vessels on her left thigh, leaving bright red freckles under the skin, until a vicious blow to Shaw’s right clearly lands right on a bite mark at the perfect angle and floods purple, Shaw crying out softly and wrapping her fingers around the headboard, breathing heavily. Root finishes the set and then pauses, digging her fingers into Shaw’s hips. Everything smells like sex and salt and Root is buzzing on it.

Shaw is gasping full time and moaning under her breath by the time Root finishes her planned number of slaps. Her hand is hot and stinging, she soothes it by cupping Shaw’s drenched pussy, laughing softly as Shaw tries to grind against the light pressure. 

“You want something, sugar? You need something?” Her voice has the dark edge it gets sometimes, and Shaw just manages a soft, mewing sound in response.

“Oh, kitten, aren’t you cute?” Root can’t hide her grin, and Shaw doesn’t even protest being called cute, too far gone and sunk into the sweet, floaty place to complain. It is  _ delightful.  _

Stroking her pussy slowly, long, tender strokes over her entrance, swirling up over her clit, Root brings her to a soft, quiet orgasm in minutes, not even penetrating her. She doesn’t stop her movements, though, even as she crawls over Shaw’s leg to reach the table.

Shaw hears the vibrator click on, and tenses, clearly unsure what to expect, but Root takes the rabbit and drags the soft head over her a few times, til she relaxes again. Then Root moves the dick down, pushes inside. Shaw’s coming almost before the little clit-stimulating-ears make contact, and she shudders and moans throatily, pushing into it and then trying to pull away. Root doesn’t let her go. 

She works Shaw through three more orgasms with the rabbit vibrator before Shaw blacks out with the wave of it, not even twitching when Root pulls out, when she's untied, or when she’s wiped down with a soft, wet flannel and has soothing cream rubbed into all her sore bits. Root jerks off with a bullet looking at the mess she's made of her lover before crawling out of bed.

She cleans up the sex mess, sorting toys out and washing them in the sink, and putting everything away, before turning the music off getting ready for bed. When she’s done, she eases in next to Shaw who finally stirs at the disturbance of her cozy. 

“Hurts,” Shaw mutters, as Root pushes up next to her, and Root nods, presses a soft kiss against her shoulder.

“I know, baby. You need anything?”    
  
“You.” Shaw mumbles, squirming a little closer, putting her head on Root’s shoulder and an arm across her belly, curling her fingers around Root’s hip, just under the hem of her jammy shorts. 

“You got it,” Root hums, pressing a kiss against Shaw’s forehead and carefully curling her arm around Shaw’s back, very gentle to avoid stimulating any of the bruising, burns or cuts. 

Shaw grumbles something in her chest, her purring noise of satisfaction, and slurps a little as she wriggles right into Root’s armpit. 

 


	12. Pick Me Up (Off the Floor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **content warning** this is the one shot about drop that maybe twenty people asked for. It's angsty ish (I mean, by now you know I don't really go in for Romangst though) 
> 
> I'm always available @kinkbossatyourservice if you wanna ask questions or you need someone to talk to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: This might not go the way you expect because honestly I can’t really see Shaw having an actual bad drop without an instigating reason, so I decided to have Root drop. And because Shaw is the recipient of the violence in their relationship, Shaw is not really in a physical state to be able to help very much. Having that pressure to help Root and missing out on her own aftercare ends up being a trigger for Shaw to drop so the kids need help to deal with this.
> 
> Thanks to all the people who chatted to me about Farsi pet names :)

**** Shaw’s whole body hurts, a swaying, deep throb that feels like her bones themselves are aching, and the effort required to roll over and investigate the out of place noise coming from her side seems absolutely impossible, until her ears sort a wet inhale out of the sounds and helpfully provide her with an information update: Root is crying.

 

It takes her maybe five minutes—though it feels like longer—to wriggle her way off her front and onto her back which she regrets immensely as her tender body complains, and then onto her side to investigate the situation. Her brain catalogues the damage as she repositions, and informs her of the following: the cane Root worked her over with last night has left her ass and upper thighs in the hot, demanding kind of state that needs to be iced down; her wrists are bruised to the extent moving them even a little washes her nerves with pain, and myriad small violences up and down her body are also protesting, her back is mostly okay—albeit sensitive, but her inner thighs are sore on a muscular level that will take a while to recover from.

 

Her throat is bruised enough it takes her three tries to get the question out, “Root, what’s wrong?” Something must have happened, she thinks, her brain foggy and dark with sleep and exhaustion. Some bad news, or a nightmare. 

 

Root just whimpers damply and Shaw spends a small eternity of pain wriggling close enough to put her arm over Root’s hip. Root immediately rolls over, presses into Shaw with her full body, and Shaw can’t control the flinch as her muscles scream protest at the swift movement. 

 

Root pulls back like she’s been burned, “shit, I’m sorry, oh Christ, Shaw,” she’s crying so much that Shaw can barely hear her words past the snot. “You need a bath, I’ll get it, I’m sorry,” Root just about falls off the bed as she tries to squirm out of the blankets, and grinds to a halt with her feet on the floor, curling over herself like she’s been punched in the gut. 

 

“M’okay,” Shaw painstakingly worms into a sitting position, regrets it immediately, and shuffles onto her knees so she can keep the weight off her sore ass, and presses her face against Root’s back, “what happened?”

 

“Nothing, I’m fine. I’m okay,” Root inhales deeply, sounds a lot like she’s trying to convince herself she’s okay, and Shaw abruptly realises what’s going on, “you’re dropping,” she wishes there wasn’t a faint note of accusation in her voice, but it’s already out there now, and Root flinches like she’s hit her.

 

“I’m fine. I’ll go and do your things, it’s okay,” it is so clearly not okay that Shaw laughs a little under her breath, without any trace of humour. 

 

“Root.” She doesn’t really know what to do, or say, her body hurts and hurts and hurts and there’s a low current of fizzing discomfort writhing behind her sternum, and then Root is out of the bed and into the bathroom, before Shaw can even point out that she’s not gonna be able to sit in the bath and also the kind of injuries she has right now do not need heat. 

 

She collapses onto her side and curls her arms carefully around her knees, pressing her face against the hard bones of her patella and breathing deeply in the hopes that suddenly everything will get easier. She doesn’t know what to do. 

 

On the bedside table, her phone buzzes, wriggles across the surface with the vibrations and almost falls onto the bed. The screen says {Zoe, MIstrees of the UNiverse Calling}. God knows when she had time to change that, and why she couldn’t have spelled the words right at least. 

 

She picks up.

 

“Hello?” Zoe sounds confused, probably because usually Shaw answers the phone with “what?” before the other person has a chance to say anything, when she actually answers the phone which is about once out of every ten calls. 

 

Shaw doesn’t know what to say, so she doesn’t say anything, and Zoe sounds like she’s probably raising her eyebrows and screwing her face up in question, “Shaw, is that you? Are you on mute or are you playing the world’s lamest prank?”

 

She opens her mouth to say something, maybe hi, and to her utmost surprise, a soft, choked noise comes out instead. 

 

Zoe sounds worried now, “Shaw, are you okay? What’s going on?”   
  


“Root’s dropping, and maybe I am too now? I don’t know, everything hurts and Root won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do.” It comes out in a garbled mess, and there’s a few seconds of dead air before Zoe replies.

 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, get in bed,” her tone brooks no argument at all, and Shaw is unbelievably glad to have an instruction, so she nods, even though Zoe can’t see her.

 

“Kay,” she mutters, and it’s small and sad and quiet.

 

“I love you, Shaw, everything is okay,” Zoe says firmly, and then cuts the call.

 

Root shuffles back into the bedroom, her shoulders hunched in, stops halfway to the bed and blinks at Shaw with huge, tear-filled eyes. Her mouth works like she’s trying to say something, and then her eyes trace down Shaw’s back as she shifts and the sheet moves. Root’s face twitches like she’s been slapped, and she crumples slowly down until she’s sat on the floor, staring at the carpet. 

 

“Root.” Shaw cringes as she forces herself to move again, her ass is killing her, “Root come back in the bed now. Zoe’s coming.”   
  
Root doesn’t say anything, for perhaps the first time in living memory. She just sits, shirtless, on the floor, like a toy that’s run out of battery and looks blankly at nothing. The expression on her face makes Shaw feel scraped and sick inside but she thinks she’ll pass the fuck out if she even tries to get up, so she just lies there, clutching her phone in her hand.

 

It makes her jump when the front door opens, her foggy brain not quite managing to figure out how Zoe could have gotten into the building, let alone the apartment, but then Zoe’s through the bedroom door in a bustle, hands full of bags which she carefully deposits by the door. She drops Shaw’s keys on the bedside table.

 

Without missing a beat she scans the room and takes in the sight of Root on the floor crying silently, and Shaw curled up in the bed, presumably covered in visible evidence of her pain. 

 

“Humph,” Zoe kicks something out of the way with her socked foot and strides over to the bed, hauling gatorade and some pill bottles out of the one bag she’s hung on to.

 

She doesn’t say anything as she maneuvers Shaw carefully into a sideways sitting position and helps her down some ibuprofen and tylenol, holds the bottle for her as Shaw drains it thirstily.  Having hands on her feels unbelievably good, like it pins the pain inside her skin instead of letting it spread out and fill the whole room.

 

“Okay, good, you’re okay,” Zoe eases her back down, pulls the sheet out the way to inspect the damage, and then pads over to Root, squatting next to her. “Hey, Root. Come on, up you come,” Root doesn’t really help, but doesn’t protest as Zoe manhandles her to her feet and urges her towards the bed, pulling the sheets back and gently pushing her in. “Root, everything’s alright, I just need you to tell me where your arnica, antiseptic cream and bandages are, okay? That’s all, you get cozy.” 

 

Root stirs briefly to wipe a hand over her face before mumbling, “medicine cabinet, red bag,” under her breath, and Zoe beams at her.

 

“Excellent. Now you’re gonna eat some chocolate while I go and get the things, yes, good,” and she produces a bar of chocolate that’s easily as long as Shaw’s arm, rips the packaging open and breaks off a row. “Best remedy for dementors, after all,” she declares, handing it to Root before snapping off a square and literally feeding it to Shaw, who just opens her mouth obediently, completely happy to give up all autonomy until she can think properly again, maybe in four or five days.

 

She closes her eyes because everything is too bright and too difficult and Root is still crying in big, slow tears that make Shaw want to scream or punch something, if she had the energy, but when she shuts her eyes it feels like the distance between them is too much, too big, so she breathes in ragged little pants and inches closer, until she’s lying on her front close enough that she can press her shoulder against Root. 

 

Root breathes in in a huge, shuddering inhale and then a warm hand hooks over her hip stimulating the fingershaped bruises and jagged nail scratches inflicted last night when Root was slamming into her from behind. It makes her grunt, but she’s quick enough to plop her hand down on Root’s when she tries to pull it back. 

 

Shaw’s hazing out by the time Zoe quits bustling and sits on the bed behind her, clinical hands pulling the sheet away from her back. Zoe doesn’t make any sound of disgust, or shock, for which Shaw feels an immense amount of gratitude. Root’s clearly dropping hard, and the mere sight of what she’d done to Shaw made her sit on the floor, so the idea of someone else seeing it and being alarmed seems bad. 

 

The cool, soothing sensation of medicated cream being smoothed with gentle hands over the shallow slices in her skin is a balm in both the literal, and a more internal sense. Shaw relaxes slowly, tension she wasn’t even aware of draining out of her joints, as Zoe rubs various creams up and down her back and ass. It’s not erotic, at all, just functional, but there’s care in the touches, and Root’s warm against her side. Shaw kind of wonders if Zoe shouldn’t be doing more for Root, since it’s Root that’s having a small nervous breakdown, but she thinks that maybe having Shaw be okay is something that will make Root feel better, so she blinks her eyes open slowly and looks at Root from too close to see her face properly.

 

The cotton under Root’s face is damp, she’s curled up in a little ball, her knees against Shaw’s side, watching her with a look of hollow distress on her face that Shaw hasn’t seen in a long time, never wants to see again.    
  
“M’fine, Root. Don’t worry,” she’s slurring, thick with pain and exhaustion, but Root relaxes a little at her words, licks her lips and tries to force a smile. 

 

“You’re both fine, just experiencing a small and temporary setback,” Zoe mutters in the tone that means she’s concentrating, “and aunt Zoe is here to help.” She finishes rubbing Shaw’s back and delicately dabs cream onto the scratches down her side before taking one of her wrists. She methodically smooths cream over the bruising and then wraps it up with a thin bandage, supporting the joint. She does the same for the other and then slips off the bed. 

 

She’s back in just a moment, though, and Shaw grumbles as Zoe urges her over, “skin contact is very important, for both of you. Also babies, but that’s a different thing, I’m pretty sure. Maybe the same though. Either way, you guys need cuddles, now make a cozy, come on,” she insists, until Shaw is curled up on Root’s chest, Root’s arm carefully curled over her shoulders, and the sobs that have been shaking Root’s body rhythmically slow under her ear. 

 

“Chocolate,” Zoe announces again, and Shaw obediently opens her mouth for the treat, sucking the creamy sweetness instead of biting it, letting the flavour coat her tongue. “Okay, I’m gonna go create some real food, with protein in it. Any requests?” She pauses for a minute, but neither Shaw nor Root reply, so she snorts quietly and clicks the TV on before leaving the room. 

 

Shaw hears the blender go even over the theme tune of Brooklyn 99, and she curls her fingers tighter around Root’s bicep, “sorry,” she’s not at all sure what she’s apologising for, for Root dropping, for not being able to deal with it alone, for letting Zoe come over, but Root just presses her face into Shaw’s hair and inhales deeply, so Shaw thinks it’s probably okay. 

 

Zoe returns, armed with smoothies that have an obscene amount of chocolate and peanut butter in them, icy cold and creamy, soothing Shaw’s sore throat as she sips it through a straw, staying mostly curled up. The painkillers have started to work their magic though, it no longer feels like she has glass in place of bones, or ropes of fire wrapped around her tender buttocks. 

 

Root manages half her smoothie as well before struggling upright to put it down, and Zoe gets Shaw to lie down on her front before putting an ice-cold towel down on her ass and upper thighs with slow, careful hands. 

 

Shaw shivers violently at the freezing material, but the initial shock wears off and the cold seeps into her bruising, soothing the red-hot ache of a thorough beating. 

 

“And shower time for you, Root, come on,” Zoe manhandles Root upright. Root’s not crying anymore, Shaw is relieved to see, but she’s still looking blank and disengaged. Zoe tugs her in the direction of the bathroom, and Shaw hears low voices before the shower clicks on and then Zoe crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, patting Shaw’s calf. 

 

She doesn’t ask Shaw how she’s feeling, or what she needs, and Shaw relaxes slowly when it becomes clear that Zoe doesn’t require anything from her. Either she was paying attention when they all after-cared together that time, or she is able to use her general Shaw knowledge effectively in this situation also. Zoe just sits and pets her gently with one hand. 

 

“Chinese food’s gonna be here in an hour,” she announces after a moment, drawing little swirls on Shaw’s leg muscle, “I’m gonna switch your cold towel out, okay?” 

 

“Mm,” Shaw agrees without opening her eyes again, and the mattress shifts as Zoe gets up and then moments later the now-warmed towel on her butt is replaced by another, shockingly cold one. 

 

Zoe hushes her with her hands, sliding one into Shaw’s hair and scratching gently, “Shh, I know, I know. It’s okay. They’re looking better already, babe, you’re doing great,” and the comfort and the compliments help Shaw relax into it. 

 

The shower clicks off, and Root trudges into the room, Shaw hears her feet scuffing against the carpet. 

 

“Hey, Root, come get in here with us,” Zoe shifts around so she’s up at the top of the bed, her hip against Shaw’s shoulder, and Root obediently shuffles in on the other side. 

 

“Let’s watch something Shaw doesn’t have to look at to follow,” Zoe suggests, and nobody argues or comments so she must go ahead, because a few minutes later the familiar theme tune of Friends starts playing, and Shaw carefully moves her hand over until she can wedge it under Root’s thigh. 

 

Root immediately shuffles closer, pressing her knee against Shaw’s hip, and Shaw must fall asleep because the next thing she knows everything smells like food and there are hands running over her shoulder gently.

 

Getting into a sitting position is painful, but once she’s up it’s not so bad, she feels a lot clearer. Zoe sets up the tray table for Shaw to share with Root, choosing to just prop her own bowl on her knee, and Shaw shifts closer to Root under the tray table without upsetting their food. 

 

She pokes her toes under Root’s calf before starting to eat. Root seems calmer, although there’s an edgy, nervous energy in her that Shaw doesn’t like. They eat in silence, and Zoe picks the tray up after they’re done.

 

“I’ll be in the lounge if you need me, okay, just yell. Or text if you don’t have the energy,” she leans down and kisses Shaw on the forehead, then Root, much to both of their surprise, and then leaves the room before they have time to say anything else. 

 

Root brings her knees up to her chest but doesn’t curl sideways or put her head down, and Shaw thinks that is a dramatic improvement.    
  
“How’re you doing?” She ventures after a few minutes of silence makes it clear that Root isn’t gonna say anything.

 

“Eh,” Root mumbles, then wells up and sniffs wetly, “I’m a mess, and then I feel guilty about being a mess because I should be taking care of you, and then I’m more of a mess. It’s a vicious cycle.”

 

It takes a while, but Shaw manages to manhandle Root into a laying back position so Shaw can kind of curl up on top of her but keep her tenderest bits clear of any pressure. After a moment, Root wraps her arms around Shaw slowly.

 

“You know you’re due our period tomorrow,” Shaw points out tentatively, and Root groans.

 

“PMS would maybe help explain why this is the worst drop I’ve ever had,” she mumbles into Shaw’s hair.

 

Shaw licks her neck, relaxing into Root’s hold, “you’re okay. We’re okay too, and I’m okay. Chocolate and naps will fix everything.”

 

“Mmm,” Root sniffs, nuzzling even closer.

 

Shaw squirms down a bit and tucks under Root’s arm, pulling the blanket up over them awkwardly, “nap with me? I’m sleepy.”

 

Root nods, curling her hand around Shaw’s shoulder carefully and helping her arrange the blankets, and Shaw feels like everything really is going to be okay. 

 

When she wakes up, Root is still sleeping, her face smoothed out. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her lip is sore looking, like she’s been chewing on it. Shaw carefully props herself up on one forearm, and watches her lover sleep, thinking about the previous evening.

 

They went pretty hard, for sure, but none of it was too far or out of Shaw’s comfort zone, and from what she remembers the end was pretty nice for both of them. She has a vague recollection of passing out in the wake of her last orgasm and Root jerking off next to her, so clearly Root was doing okay then. She shrugs internally. Drop is drop is drop. Unpredictable and brutal. She’s read more about it than she’s experienced first hand, she thinks she’s not especially prone to the kind of chemical imbalance that presents itself as drop, but not knowing what to do for Root today was certainly an upsetting feeling. 

 

She realises she’s idly tracing her fingers over Root’s collarbone when Root stirs, blinks her eyes open sleepily. Shaw almost, almost retracts her hand like she’s been caught doing something wrong, but at the last second, leaves it, draws a little star over the scar marring Root’s pale chest. 

 

“Hi,” she murmurs. Root’s eyes flick down to the bandage around her wrist, and Shaw huffs, leaves her shoulder alone and takes her chin, forcing Root to look up again, “I know you’re really sad right now, but you’re also making yourself sadder, and that’s stupid. You’re many things, moosh, but you’re not stupid.”

 

“I’m not a moose, either,” Root mumbles, not making eye contact but obeying the tug of Shaw’s hand.

 

Shaw snorts quietly, “not a moose, a moosh. It’s Farsi. It means ‘you’re a huge dork,’.” It doesn’t, it’s a term of endearment her own maman would call her when she was sick, or hurt and too weak to complain about pet names. 

 

“Oh,” Root slides her eyes down Shaw’s cheek, focuses past her on the wall and Shaw grumbles low in her chest. Root likes it when she does that, usually, she makes the ‘aw, so cute’ face when Shaw does it by accident.

 

“Okay, fine, it doesn’t mean you’re a dork. It means I like you, or whatever. It’s a nice thing,” the look on Root’s face is too sad to tease her even to protect Shaw’s own squishy bits.

 

Root blinks, looks at her finally, “like... a pet name?” She inquires, with a note of soft wonder in her voice instead of sadness. It is far, far better than her miserable little ‘oh’.

 

“Yeah, like a pet name. Moosh. Moosham, only because you’re all small and sad and pathetic. Don’t go thinking this is a regular thing,” Shaw sounds brusque, she knows, but her hand is soft on Root’s cheek and that probably counts for something. The tragic affection in Root’s eyes is making her feel squirmy and uncomfortable. 

 

“Okay,” Root looks away, clearly interpreting Shaw’s unconscious shift correctly, but she doesn’t sound nearly as broken as she did moments ago. 

 

“I told you, everything’s okay,” Shaw mutters, squirming down so she can lie on her side. She wants to escape the pressure, but she can’t lie on her back, she doesn’t think, and turning away from Root seems too cruel, so she just pillows her cheek on her arm and looks at Root’s neck, her delicate tendons. She bets her own neck has marks from being strangled, choked out, while Root chewed on her. The memory sends a pleasant little shiver of remembered violence through her. “Thank you, for last night. I needed that,” she says, carefully, not wanting to set Root off again but needing her to know that for Shaw last night was a good thing, reset her, rebalanced her.

 

Root just nods, doesn’t reply, but she does reach out to touch her hip, fingers as light as a butterfly. Shaw accepts the almost non-existent invitation and squirms forwards, under Root’s arm, sets her mouth on the soft skin of Root’s neck, sucks gently. 

 

Root shivers under her mouth but doesn’t move away, or protest, so Shaw lips at her, hums into her warm throat. Root takes a huge shuddering breath and presses her face into Shaw’s hair, inhales deeply, holding her a little more against her body, and Shaw nods into her neck, approving the mild change in circumstances.

 

It feels a little like it did when Root collapsed after Martine, like Shaw is doing the right thing, and helping, and it’s warm in her chest, so she lets the hum turn into a soft, grumbling growl, and holds Root as they fall back gently into sleep. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is HATE THE GAME (Eta a few weeks for starting to post it!) 
> 
> Are you still reading? Are you excited? Now would be a FINE TIME to let me know that by checking you've left kudos on the [two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5054473) [prequels](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5759431) or leaving me an encouraging comment!


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